THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


M, 


THE  BROKEN  SWORD: 


-OR- 


A  PICTORIAL  PAGE   IN   RECONSTRUCTION 


-BY- 


D.  WORTHINGTON. 


WILSON,  N.  C.: 

P.  D.  GOLD  &  SONS, 

1901. 


This  work  is  respectfully  inscribed  to  the 


By  the  Author, 

Who  f  oHowed,  as  their  fathers  did,  the   "  Southern 
Cross." 


6 


PS 


WS11-0- 


IISTDEX. 


Introductory. 

CHAP 

Looking  Backward  .............  ...........................  i 

Onr  Scotch-Irish  .........................................          U 

The  Assassins  of  the  Peace  of  the  South  ..................       HI 

Types  and  Shadows  ....................................        IV 

Patriotic  Men  Delibernting  ...............................          y 

.        The  Mills  Are  Grinding  ..................................        yj 

Q=      A  Politician  of  the  New  School  .........................      VII 

Memorial  Day  ............................................    VIII 

3       The  Broken  Cruse  ...........................     ............        IX 

Freedom  in  Flower  .....................  .    ................          X 

j2        The  Majesty  of  the  Law..  ................................        XI 

*        HomeAgaln  ..............................................      XK 

w       A  Knight  of  the  White  Camelia  ..........................     XIH 

g      The  Oath  of  Fealty  .....................................    XIV 

The  Black  Diplomat  .....................................       XV 

Under  the  Hammer  ............  ...........................     XVI 

x      A  House  Warming  .......................................  X^II 

O      The  Writ  of  Ejectment  ..............................  XVIII 

¥        The  Coroner's  Inquest  ......................................     XIX 

A1  Daniel  Come  to  Judgment  ................................       XX 

An'TJiiHeen  Hand  Upon  the  Lever  .........................  .'..   ..     XXI 

An  Hour  With  Dickens  ................................  XXIE 

The  Absent  Minded  Judge  .........................  ...........  ..XXIII 

<       The  Dipping  of  the  Red  btars  .............................  XXIV 

The  Parting  of  the  Ways  ...............................  ,    XXV 


ILLUSTHATEI)    BY  JAMES  DKMPSEY  R[JLLOCK. 


4G1512 


RIGHTS 


INTRODUCTION. 


"I  have  considered  the  oppressions-  that  are  done* 
under  the  sun,  and  on  the  side  of  the  oppres* 
sor  there  is  power." 

In  the  enforcement  of  the  policy  of  Reconstruc 
tion  in  the  South,  the  evidences  were  from  day  to^ 
day  becoming  so  cumulative  and  decisive,  that 
nothing  but  the  discipline  of  an  enraged  party,, 
coupled  with  the  "spoils"  principle,  prevented 
the  whole  mass  of  the  community  from  a  universal" 
expression  of  its  desire  to  have  it  abandoned. 
Reasoning  men  everywhere  felt  that  it  must  con 
tinue  to  multiply  its  mischiefs.  "But,"  said  its-1, 
authors,  "treason  must  be  made  odious,  and  the 
late  insurrectionary  States  must  feel  that  there  is 
a  higher  law  than  that  promulgated  by  their  ordi 
nances  of  secession." 

The  Spanish  inquisition,  now  the  abhorrence  of 
all  enlightened  minds,  was  long  sustained  in  many 
centuries  by  the  tyrants'  plea  of  necessity.  In  the- 
burning  of  a  thousand  heretics  the  religious  zealot 
saw  the  hand  of  God ;  in  the  destruction  of  a 
thousand  sorcerers,  the  fanatic  discerned  the  com 
monweal  of  the  people  ;  so  in  the  whipcords  with 
which  the  people  of  the  South  were  so  mercilessly 
scourged,  there  was  found  an  antiseptic  for  the 
gangrenous  wounds  inflicted  by  the  civil  war.  All 
these  cruelties  were  legalized,  while  bleeding  hu 
manity  was  sinking  under  the  burden  of  oppres- 


IV 

sion.  In  the  collision  of  exasperated  passions,  it 
is  the  temper  of  aggression  that  always  strikes  the 
first  blow.  The  government  ol  the  South  by  car 
petbaggers  was  essentially  oppressive  and  inquisi 
torial.  It  was,  in  its  practical  operation,  a  pure 
and  unadulterated  despotism,  superseding  the  pro 
tection  guaranteed  by  the  Federal  Constitution  to 
each  and  every  State.  It  was  under  the  dominion 
of  an  organized  anarchy,  with  legislatures  and 
courts  of  justice,  subordinated  to  a  lawless  assem 
blage  of  unprincipled  men  calling  themselves  the 
representatives  and  judges  of  the  people.  Among 
its  necessarily  implied  powers  was  that  of  confisca 
tion  ;  and  numbered  in  its  enumeration  of  brutali 
ties,  was  a  nameless  crime  that  shocked  the  moral 
sense  of  mankind.  Reconstruction  came  upon  the 
South  with  fearful  impulse. 

Perhaps  the  "hour  is  on  the  wing,"  when  a  wor 
thier  hand  will  write  the  history  of  the  institutional 
age  that  was  sandwiched  between  the  slavery  civil 
ization  ante-dating  the  sixties,  and  that  which 
minimized  the  pernicious  power  of  manhood  suf 
frage  at  the  close  of  the  century;  or  perhaps  when 
that  remnant  that  still  survives  in  the  weakness  of 
age  to 

"Weep  o'er  their  wounds,  o'er  tales  of  sorrow  done. 
Shoulder  their  crutch  and  fchow  how  fields  are  won." 

shall  have  "passed  over  the  river;"  when  the 
threnody  of  the  "olden  days"  which  to  us  is 
like  the  music  of  Carrol  along  the  hills  of  Sli- 
mora,  "pleasant,  but  mournful  to  the  soul,"  shall 
be_ forgotten,  some  ambitious  youth  will  uplift  the 
veil;  will  take  a  glance  of  the  whole  horizon,  and 
the  south  will  unbosom  her  griefs  that  have  been 
so  long  concealed.  It  will  not  do  for  a  hand  that 
drew  the  sword  to  guide  the  pen.  By  a  law  of  our 
nature  all  passive  impressions  impair  our  moral 


sensibilities.     Contact  with  misery  renders  us  cal 
lous  to  those  experiences;  a  constant  view    of   vice 
lessens  its  deformity.     If  any    expression   in   this 
humble  narrative  shall  appear  ill-tempered,  let  me 
say   in   the  language  of  Themistocles  at  the  battle 
of  Salamis,    "Strike,    but   hear    me."     The   whole 
country  has   long  since  repudiated  the  dogma  that 
''all  men  are  born  free  and    equal""    and   endowed 
with  certain  imprescriptible  and  inalienable  rights. 
This  heresy  of  course  found  its  highest  expression 
in  the  post-bellum  amendments  to  the  constitution, 
and    the   remedial  statutes  which  made  their   effi 
ciency  complete.     The   war  was  the  logical   fulfill 
ment  of  prophecies  that  had  their   forecast   in   the 
public  councils  before  the  nullification  doctrine  was 
forced  upon  the  Senate  by  Mr.  Calhoun.     It  sprang 
without  extraneous  aid    from    uninterpretable  ex 
pressions  in  the  organic  law,  which  were  finally  ex 
plained   away   in   the   effusion    of  blood.     Recon 
struction,    in  the  conception  of  men  who   provided 
the  sinews  of  war,    was  the   prolific  aftermath;  and 
in  this  harvest  field,  the  gleaners  plied  their  voca 
tion  with  merciless  activity,  reinforced  in  their  vil 
lainies  by  the  freedmen,  who,   in   an   experimental 
way,  were  publicly  evincing  their  unfitness  for  cit 
izenship.     The  Civil  war  gendered  this  brood    that 
filled  the  South  with    horror,  and    their   disorders 
and  tumults  precipitated  a  crisis  that   plunged  the 
Southland  into  a  paroxysm  from   the    Potomac   to 
the  Rio  Grande.     There  was    no    refuge    from    an 
evil    that  was    all-pervasive.     The  great  war  with 
its  pageants  and  sacrifices,  its  banners   and    gener 
als,  its  storming  soldiery    and  reservoirs  of  human 
blood    was  almost  thrust  out  of  the  memory  as  the 
patriots  of  the  sixties  stood  face  to  face  to   the  all- 
encompassing   perils  of  reconstruction.     They  saw 
the  flag  of  the  Union — the  almost   lifeless   emblem 
of  the  genius  of  their  liberties — frown  feebly  at  the 


VI 

promulgation  of  a  law  that  disfranchised  300,000 
American  citizens.  The  old  banner  seemed  to  turn 
her  eye  to  the  eagle  at  her  staff- head  and  ask  him 
to  lend  her  his  wide-spreading  pinions,  that  she 
might  bend  the  wing  and  fly  away  from  the  pollu 
ted  spot — from  the  embodied  forms  of  evil  and 
ruin.  Almost  every  utterance  of  the  complaining 
tongue  that  was  syllabled  into  speech,  was  to  this 
•effect:  ."AVill  our  country — our  civilization — with 
stand  the  shock?"  Our  Southern  characters  had 
•been  enriched  by  an  assemblage  of  all  the  treas- 
iires  which  refined  intellect  could  accumulate;  we 
had  wisely  built  upon  foundations  of  public  vir 
tue;  our  institutions  had  the  permanency  of  age 
and  respectability,  and  exhibited  everywhere  the 
fullest  maturity  of  athletic  vigor.  The  paroles  of 
Southern  soldiers  amnestied  them  from  arrest  for 
past  military  offences,  but  the  clothing  which  their 
poverty  obliged  them  to  wear  marked  the  target  at 
which  the  lawless  and  vicious  shot  at  their  will. 
Personal  and  State  rights  were  abridged  until  noth 
ing  was  left  of  the  sovereignty  of  the  barren  com 
monwealths  or  the  enthralled  individual.  There 
were  no  juries  of  the  vicinage  but  negroes;  and 
daily  the  broken-hearted  people  were  unwittingly 
aggrandizing  rapacious  officials.  To  the  most  de 
praved  of  the  negroes  the  carpet-baggers  were  con 
stantly  appealing  with  arguments  that  stirred  their 
"blood.  This  narrative  will  not  in  an  historical 
sense  deal  with  the  subject  of  reconstruction;  from 
its  want  of  compactness  and  continuity  it  would 
prove  inefficient  as  a  lesson  or  a  guide.  We  pre 
sent,  however,  imperfect  portraits  of  a  few  men 
and  women  who  were  unfortunately  in  the  path 
way  of  the  storm  that  stripped  the  husbandman  of 
the  fruits  of  his  labor,  the  Southron  of  his  liberty, 
•stifled  the  cries  of  the  distressed,  and  rendered  the 
tenures  of  property  unstable  and  insecure.  In  no 


VII 

conjuncture  in  which,  this  paroxysm  of  politics 
placed  the  former  masters  of  slaves,  did  they  abate 
their  care  and  zeal  for  their  betterment.  Monu 
ments  of  brass  and  sculptured  stone  are  not  suffi 
ciently  enduring  to  memorialize  the  virtues  of  the 
negroes  of  the  old  plantations  of  the  South,  who 
watched  and  waited  for  the  avenging  arm  of  Provi 
dence  to  right  the  wrongs  of  old  master.  May 
God's  mercy  rest  and  abide  upon  this  scattered 
remnant,  that,  like  autumn's  leaves  in  the  forest, 
have  been  blown  hither  and  thither  by  the  wraith 
of  the  tempest. 


THE  BROKEN  SWORD. 


CHAPTER  I. 


LOOKING    BACKWARD. 

I  have  surrendered  at  discretion  to  vagrant 
thoughts.  Just  as  the  idle  school-boy  will  pause 
beside  the  limpid  stream  to  watch  its  eddying  waters 
as  they  go  on  and  on,  "never  hasting,  never  rest 
ing,"  so  I  sit  to-night  in  the  haze  of  the  years  that 
are  dead,  with  the  mind  sadly  reminiscent,  and  I 
watch  the  shadows  as  they  seem  to  sketch  upon 
the  memory  the  familiar  faces  of  our  loved  and 
lost,  and  I  hear  their  laughter  and  songs — grateful 
echoes  from  the  realm  of  the  long  ago.  I  am  gazing 
again  upon  the  sepulchre  of  the  old  South,  after 
the  plow-share  of  war  and  reconstruction  had  run 
the  last  furrow.  In  the  garnering  of  the  red  har 
vest  did  our  men  and  women  of  the  sixties  main 
tain  themselves  with  a  proper  decorum?  Were 
they  less  patriotic,  less  self-sacrificing,  less  ready 
with  heart  and  hand  to  divert  the  destructive  rev 
olution  of  principle  tjhan  their  fathers  of  '76,  who 
in  the  up-building  of  republican  institutions  wav 
ered  not  in  their  purpose;  when  the  terror  and  ig 
nominy  of  the  scaffold  were  before  them;  when 
they  knew  their  blood  must  cement  the  foundations 
of  the  structure  they  were  rearing,  and  they  them 
selves  become  the  first  sacrifice  in  the  temple  of 
liberty,  which  they  were  dedicating?  In  that  epoch 


10  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

and  since  we  have  been  making  the  grand  experi 
ment  of  self-government;  not  as  Rome  made  it, 
when  liberty  there  was  only  a  name  for  licentious 
ness;  not  as  Greece  made  it,  when  a  demagogue 
swayed  the  deluded  masses  and  lacked  only  a 
throne  to  make  him  a  king;  but  with  a  constitution 
that  should  deserve  the  encomium  of  the  people, 
for  the  unutterable  blessings  it  should  bestow;  a 
constitution  impervious  to  unjust  exactions  and 
unpatriotic  suggestions,  we  hoped  for  a  poli 
cy  dictated  in  a  spirit  of  compromise;  but  as  I 
look  back  upon  the  eventful  past,  the  first  adven 
ture  of  Gil  Bias  occurs  to  me.  He  had  been  fur 
nished  by  his  uncle  with  a  sorry  mule  and  thirty 
or  forty  pistoles,  and  sent  forth  to  seek  his  fortune. 
He  set  out  accordingly,  but  had  not  proceeded  far 
from  home,  when,  sitting  on  his  beast  counting  his 
pistoles  with  much  satisfaction,  into  his  hat,  the 
mule  suddenly  raised  its  head  and  pricked  up  its 
ears.  Gil  Bias  looked  around  to  see  the  cause  of 
its  alarm,  and  perceived  an  old  hat  upon  the  ground 
in  the  middle  of  the  road,  with  a  rosary  of  very 
large  beads  in  it.  At  the  same  time  he  heard  a 
voice  addressing  him  in  a  very  pathetic  tone,  "Good 
traveler,  in  the  name  of  the  merciful  God,  and  of 
all  the  saints,  do  drop  a  few  pistoles  in  the  hat." 
Looking  in  the  direction  from  which  these  words 
proceeded,  he  saw  to  his  dismay  the  muzzle  of  a 
blunderbuss  projecting  through  the  hedge,  and 
pointing  directly  at  his  head.  Gil  Bias,  not  much 
pleased  with  the  looks  of  the  pious  mendicant, 
dropped  a  few  pistoles  in  the  hat  and  scampered 
away  as  fast  as  he  could.  This  slight  narrative 
presents  to  the  mind  of  the  writer  the  most  perfect 
emblem  of  the  pacific  remedy  of  reconstruction  in 
its  beginning. 

To  the  contemplative  mind  there  is  a  melancholy 
pleasure  in  looking  backward;  as  shadows   will  en- 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  11 

ter  unbidden  into  the  camera  obscura,  though  every 
portal  appears  securely  guarded;  so  memories  will 
flit  fantastically  into  the  imagination  when  every 
approach  seems  closed  against  intrusion.  I  am 
looking  backward,  as  it  were,  through  a  smoked 
glass,  for  a  great  sunburst  is  within  the  radius  of 
vision,  a  sunburst  that  cheered  our  tired  eyes  with 
its  thousand  scintillant  gleams  in  the  hot  days  of 
August  A.  1).  Nineteen  Hundred. 

Looking  backward  upon  a  picturesque  civiliza 
tion — upon  the  old  homesteads  and  plantations  of 
the  South,  with  their  hallowed  associations  and 
ideals — with  their  impedimenta  not  of  human  chat 
tels,  but  of  compact  masses  of  freed  slaves,  the 
underpinning  of  that  civilization  in  its  concrete 
form. 

I  have  asked  the  historian,  the  essayist,  the 
chronicler,  the  clairvoyant,  to  aid  me  in  the  retro 
spection,  but  they  answer  dubiously.  There  is  no 
trodden  path  that  I  may  pursue.  No  friendly 
hand  that  I  may  clasp  as  I  stride  across  fens  and 
brakes,  and  morasses:  even  the  echoes  of  receding 
footsteps,  like  the  laughter  of  happy  voices  are 
hushed  and  dead  "lang  syne."  There  are  faded 
letters  however  that  I  may  read;  broken  swords 
and  battered  shields  hanging  upon  decaying  walls; 
moth  eaten  uniforms  in  garret  and  closet,  that  will 
guide  me  backward.  The  line  of  vision  is  traversed 
by  unwieldy  throngs  of  dilapidated  men,  in  tat 
tered  gray  clothes,  without  a  federal  head,  with 
out  intelligent  momentum,  breaking  up  and  dissol 
ving  like  icebergs  drifting  southward;  they  are 
coming  back  home  where  there  is  neither  grain  for 
the  sickle,  nor  hope  for  the  husbandman:  coming 
back  to  little  cottages  where  lights  in  the  windows 
kept  burning  for  dear  papa  flickered  and  spum 
ed,  then  died  down  into  the  rustic  candlesticks, 
when  the  little  watchful  eyes  so  tired  and  weary, 


12  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

closed  upon  the  moonlight  that  shimmered  within 
the  humble  chamber. 

Looking  back  over  grave  yards,  where  we  rever 
ently  laid  away  our  jewels  to  be  placed  by  the 
Great  Lapidary  in  His  Crown  by  and  by,  when  we 
shall  all  rise  from  our  sleep  and  shine  in  His  emitted 
glory.  Looking  backward  over  a  strange  realm, 
without  boundaries  or  capitals,  where  there  are  no 
soldiers  and  no  battle  fields,  and  where  every  thing 
is  so  fragrant  and  ethereal.  Here  we  may  fashion 
pictures  and  weave  around  them  gossamer  draperies 
as  insubstantial  as  this  golden  twilight. 

Hard-hitting,  rough-riding  moss-troopers  rode 
over  the  subjugated  domains  of  the  bewildered 
South,  with  swords  that  flashed  and  turned  every 
way  like  Alaric's;  rode  hither  to  obliterate  the  past, 
its  monuments,  its  shrines,  its  traditions;  to  scarify 
the  old  south  with  harrows  and  bayonets;  its  altars, 
its  homes,  its  civilization,  and  to  fetter  with  chains 
a  great  warlike  people,  with  a  purpose  as  fatuous 
as  ever  animated  the  swart  maid  of  Philistia. 
Against  this  senseless  vengeance,  the  South  rebelled 
again  with  the  same  old  defiance,  the  same  old 
man-hood.  You  may  prod  the  wounded  lion  with 
pikes  and  sabres,  but  you  cannot  tread  upon  it 
with  iron  heels  without  hearing  its  roar  and  feeling 
its  fangs.  To  these  marauders,  the  old  South  was 
but  a  moor  fowl  to  be  plucked  and  eaten.  To  us 
she  was  dynastic,  like  Hapsburg,  Plantagenet  or 
Hohenzollern.  To  them  the  South  was  a  huge  in 
cubator,  out  of  which  was  hatched  "Stratagems 
and  treasons:"  To  us  she  was  a  Queen,  still  wear 
ing  the  purple,  still  grasping  the  sceptre,  as  in  past 
evolutions  and  crises.  She  was  Our  Queen  when  a 
full  century  ago,  and  before  there  was  a  cabin  up 
on  her  plantations  she  pleaded  for  the  emancipa 
tion  of  slaves  and  was  insultingly  asked  to  with 
draw  her  petition  by  the  Merchant  Marine  of  Mas- 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  13 

sacliusetts.  She  was  Our  Queen  when  envenomed 
abolitionists  were  gathering  the  aftermath  of  the 
"Higher  law  proclamation;"  she  was  Our  Queen 
when  Ossawattomie  Brown  unleashed  his  blood 
hounds  upon  a  fresher  trail  at  Harper's  Ferry;  she 
was  Our  Queen  when  Sumpter  ran  up  a  flag  that 
had  never  before  fluttered  in  a  gale,  never  before 
greeted  a  young  nation  with  its  maiden  blushes, 
followed  by  the  hopes,  the  prayers,  the  aspira 
tions,  faith  and  loyalty  of  ten  million  men,  women 
and  children;  Our  Queen  when  "old  Traveler"  was 
stripped  of  his  dust  covered  housings  and  led  ever 
so  weary  back  into  Old  Mars.  Bob's  stables;  Our 
Queen  when  the  last  cavalier  wiped  the  blood  from 
his  sabre  and  scabbarded  it  forever.  God  grant 
she  may  always  be  Our  Queen  that  we  may  be  her 
liegemen,  leal  and  right  trusty  in  all  catastrophes! 
Hence  we  go  back  to  think  of  her,  to  write  of  her, 
though  a  widow  bereaved  of  her  husband,  and  a 
mother  who  has  buried  her  first  born.  There  is  no 
sword  now  to  gleam  like  a  flash  of  light  over  the 
plumes  of  charging  squadrons:  there  is  no  guidon 
to  mark  the  line  of  direction  through  defile  and 
mountain  pass:  no  call  of  the  bugle  "to  saddle  and 
away,"  no  thanksgiving  like  that  of  Jackson; 
"Grod  crowned  our  arms  with  Victory  at  McDowell 
yesterday;"  No  smile  like  that  of  Lee  as  the  Army 
of  the  Potomac  with  trailing  banners  was  double 
quicking  back  to  Washington.  Ah!  no,  biit  the 
old  South  through  her  blinding  tears  is  smiling  still; 
her  dear  old  face  re-lighted  by  a  fresher  inspiration. 
A  trifling  dash  of  time  between  18(50  and  Ib70, 
but  events  have  been  packed  away  within  that  de 
cade,  that  would  overlap  the  four  corners  of  any 
other  century  in  the  calendar.  Within  those  years 
were  compounded  somewhere  in  laboratories  all  the 
combustible  elements  of  war  and  pillage;  the  cast 
ing  the  projectiles  that  would  destroy  a  hemis- 


14  THE   BROKEN    SWORD. 

phere.  Broken  hearts — crushed  hopes — desolated 
homes,  an  enslaved  country,  wrongs,  indignities, 
outrages,  oppressions,  all,  all  wrought  by  the  cruel 
instrumentalities  of  great  masters  of  tragedy.  Here 
is  an  old  mansion  with  turrets  and  esplanades  and 
terraces  long  neglected  and  sadly  out  of  repair. 
Here  are  great  oaks  of  a  century's  growth  planted 
and  pruned  by  hands  that  have  long  since  forgotten 
their  cunning.  Here  are  lapping  waters  singing  in 
low  sweet  octaves  as  they  did  when  poured  out  of 
the  hollow  of  His  Hand.  Here  is  the  old  rookery 
out  of  which  are  ricochetting  birds  almost  of  every 
voice  and  plume.  Here  are  cattle,  red  and  dap 
pled,  cropping  the  meadow  grass.  Here  are  vast 
expanses  clad  in  the  refreshing  drapery  of  nature, 
upheaving  their  grassy  billows.  Here  are  the  crumb 
ling  cabins  of  the  old  slaves,  in  silent  platoons 
that  liank  the  old  mansion,  the  earmarks  of  a  pic 
turesque  civilization  abused  and  denounced.  Slaves, 
many  of  whom  like  the  paintings  of  Titian  and  Mu- 
rillo  and  Correggio  in  the  great  mullioned  halls  have 
come  down  from  former  generations.  In  yonder 
clump  of  soughing  pines  stood  the  little  meeting 
house  of  the  "cullud  folks"  on  "Old  Marsa's  plan 
tation."  Here  for  decades  they  worshipped  In 
the  little  brook  that  glides  along  so  cheerily  singing 
as  it  goes,  they  had  baptized  adult  "bredrin  and 
sisterin."  Here  many  of  them  had  felt  the  touch  of 
the  Master  upon  the  emancipated  souls,  and  heard 
His  voice  in  their  spiritual  uplifting,  tenderly  call 
ing,  and  there  when  the  gnarled  and  knotted  hands 
had  ceased  their  toil  "Ole  Marsa  and  Ole  Misses" 
had  laid  them  crosswise  upon  rigid,  lifeless  bosoms, 
that  heaved  not  again  with  the  pangs  of  suffering; 
and  out  yonder  under  the  ma.ples,  hard  by  the  little 
babbling  brook,  reverent  and  tender  hands  white 
and  black  had  lowered  the  rude  coffin  and  covered 
it  up  in  "God's  acre,"  and  here  around  the  little 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  15: 

altar  ole  Marster,  and  Miss  Alice  and  Mars  Harry 
worshipped  with  them.  No  master,  no  mistress, 
no  slave  in  this  consecrated  ground;  nq  black,  no 
white,  in  the  invisible  Presence;  no  hard  times  to 
come  again;  no  tithing  men,  nor  tax  gatherers;  no 
snarling,  snapping  wolf  to  snatch  the  gnawed  bone 
from  the  hungry  wife  and  her  starving  child.  If  the 
larder  were  empty  the  "great  house"  had  an  ex- 
haustless  supply.  If  clothes  were  rent  there  was 
"allus  stuff  in  de  loom;"  If  the  clouds  gathered  for 
snow  "ole  marsa"  would  put  on  his  great  coat  and 
knock  at  the  doors  and  ask,  "Boys,  have  you  got 
plenty  of  good  wood  for  the  storm's"  If  Joshua 
had  the  "rheumatics"  or  Melinda  the  "shaking 
ager,"  or  little  Jeff  the  hives,  there  were  ointments 
and  liquids,  pills  and  lotions;  and  what  physican 
was  so  kind;  whose  hands  so  soft  and  tender, 
whose  voice  so  comforting  and  sympathetic  as  "ole 
missis' s  and  young  missis' s?' '  There  was  the  garden 
from  which  the  negroes  would  market  their  vegeta 
bles;  there  was  the  little  "water  million"  patch 
where  little  Jeff  and  Susan  Ann  would  run  out  at 
midday,  and  thump  and  thump  and  thump  and 
would  as  often  run  back  with  their  mouths  wide 
open  like  a  rift  in  a  black  cloud,  "Mammy,  oh! 
Mammy,  dat  great  big  water- million  is  mo'est; 
ripe — be  ripe  by  Sunday  sho,"  and  their  little 
black  feet  would  knock  off  a  jig  on  the  bare  floor;, 
then  there  was  the  pig  sty  where  Sukey  the  "sas 
sy  poker,"  in  its  sleekness  and  fatness,  would 
grunt  and  frisk  and  cavort  all  the  day  long.  Then 
there  was  "Ole  Boatswain,"  the  coon  dog,  lazily 
napping  in  the  door — barking  at  the  treed  coon  in 
his  sleep;  then  there  were  the  "tater  ridges"  and 
the  pumpkins  and  the  cotton  patches;  then  there 
were  the  cackling  hens  and  the  pullets,  the- 
ducks  and  geese  and  guinea-fowls;  the  eggs  that 
Hannah  and  Clarissa  and  Melinda  had  counted  n 


16  THE   BROKEN    SWORD. 

score  of  times,  and  knew  to  a  four  pence  a'  penny 
how  much  they  would  fetch  in  the  town;  and  "dere 
\vas  de  wagin  wid  ole  Bob  an'  ole  Pete  wTid  pinted 
yeares,  chawin'  de  bit  same  as  it  were  foclder,  ready 
to  dash  off  fore  dey  wus  ready;"  and  there  were 
the  inventoried  assets  in  trade,  "free  forfs  Han- 
na's  and  two  forfs  Melinda's  and  seben  forfs  Cla- 
rissy's,"  all  tumbled  in  disorder,  live  stock  and 
dead  stock.  And  then  "dere  was  Melinda  and 
Judy  a  settin'  a  middle  ships  into  de  wagin,  all 
agwine  to  de  town."  And  when  the  heavy  wheels 
would  rattle  with  its  human  freight  over  the  hard 
ground  of  Ingleside,  as  the  moon  was  dipping  its 
nether  horn  below  the  line  of  vision,  and  Clara 
Bell  and  Melinda  "a  singin'  de  ole  ship  of  Zion," 
"ole  Marster  an'  Missis  an'  Miss  Alice  would  run 
outen  de  great  house  jes  to  see  if  Ned  had  fotched 
us  all  back  safe  an'  sound.  An'  den  when  Christ 
mas  would  come,  de  ole  turkey  gobbler  wrould  be 
turnin'  an'  twistin'  roun'  and  roun'  fore  de  fire 
drappin'  gravy  in  de  dish,  and  de  barbeku  would 
be  brownin'  and  de  lasses  a  stewin  out  de  taters  in 
great  big  ubbens,  fo  de  liambergasted  cookin'  stobes 
cum  about  to  pester  folkes.  And  den  dere  wTould 
be  ole  Ca>sar  a  shufflin'  towards  ole  Marser's  room, 
and  little  Jeff  a  sneakin'  on  tip-toe  .to  ketch  ole 
Marser's  Christmas  gift  fore  he  seed  em,  an'  Mary 
an'  Polly  creepin'  like  cats  in  Miss  Alice's  cham 
ber,  to  get  their  stockins  that  Santy  Claus  had 
stuffed  from  top  to  toe  ;  and  den  de  clatter  in  de 
great  dinin'  room,  when  wid  bowls  of  cream,  and 
flagons  of  mellow  ole  rye,  Clarissa  and  Melindy 
would  bemakin'  egg-nog  fur  de  fokeses,  white  and 
cullud,  on  de  plantation." 

Oh  !  this  golden  prime  ! 

There  were  no  black  soldiers  in  greasy  uniforms 
a  hep,  hep,  hepping  about  the  plantation;  no  firing 
of  guns  by  riotous  negroes  on  the  roadside  ;  no 


THE   BROKEN    SWORD.  17 

drunken,  revelling  wretches  to  slash  and  deface 
portraits,  walls  and  corridors;  no  lecherous  vil 
lains  to  accost  and  abuse  defenceless  and  inoffen 
sive  women;  no  vigils  to  keep  for  fear  of  murders, 
burglaries  and  conflagrations;  no  angry  forces  and 
energies  to  quicken  and  compound;  no  wife  to  say 
to  her  husband,  "Have  you  fotched  any  wittles 
back  from  the  conwenshun  ?  'Fore  God  de  chillun 
haint  had  narry  moufful  o'  nuffin  to  eat  dis  bless 
ed  day,  nor  me  nuther." 

Ah,  no !  the  blessing  that  was  vouchsafed  unto 
Israel,  despite  its  rebellion,  was  all  bountiful  in 
this  land.  "I  will  give  thee  peace  in  the  land,  and 
ye  shall  lie  down,  and  there  shall  be  none  to  make 
thee  afraid." 

Then  war  came  with  its  unutterable  horrors  and 
tumults.  The  old  tallow  candles  were  snuffed  out, 
and  there  were  fears  and  alarms  in  the  mansion  and 
the  cabin;  the  thoroughbred  was  brought  out  of 
the  stable  with  yellow  housings  on,  like  the  gelding 
of  a  knight  errant,  and  the  young  soldier,  dressed 
all  in  gray  with  buff  revers,  rushed  out  of  the 
house  and  vaulted  into  the  saddle.  There  were 
kisses  and  good  byes — lost  echoes  now — as  the  cav 
alier,  young  and  happy  and  handsome,  rode  away. 
Yes,  rode  away  in  the  descending  shadows,  over 
the  hills,  through  the  glades,  to  Manassas  and  to 
death.  Yes,  rode  away  to  the  death  wrestle — to 
where  the  guns  were  spitting  fire. 

"Bress  yo  souls,  foKeses,"  said  Uncle  Ned  one 
day,  as  he  leaned  upon  his  staff  like  a  sheik 
of  the  desert,  ''I  looks  back  now  und  den,  und 
peers  lak  I  kiri  see  ole  missis  way  back  yan- 
der  in  de  war  times,  when  de  kannon  was  a  plow- 
in'  froo  de  trees  ober  at  Manassy,  same  as  a  sho 
nun"  harrykin,  und  killin'  a  million  of  our  fed- 
erick  soldiers  at  wun  time.  I  seed  her  und  Miss 
Alice  cum  outen  de  grate  house,  a  fairly  toting 
2 


18  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

Mars  Harry  dat  rainy  day  he  rid  off  to  de  war,  und 
Mars  Harry  he  looked  same  as  a  gineral  in  all  dem 
stripes  und  fedders,  und  Nelly  she  wuz  jest  a 
chompin'  de  bit  und  er  pawin'  de  yurth  lak  she 
wuz  moes  afeerd  de  war  want  er  gwine  to  hole  out 
twell  she  und  Mars  Harry  got  dar;  und  den  ole 
missis  looked  up  in  Mars  Harry's  face,  und  I  seed 
her  laf,  do  she  wuz  crying  tu,  und  den  I  heerd 
hur  say,  'My  brave  boy,  how  kin  I  ever  giv  yu 
up  !  Will  yer  git  er  furlow  und  cum  home  arter 
de  battle  ?'  Und  den  Mars  Harry  he  larfed  too, 
und  den  I  heerd  him  say,  'Oh  mother  don't  be 
childish,  I'm  jest  er  gwine  off  fer  my  helth.  I'm 
gwine  to  bring  yer  a  yankee  sord  when  we  whups 
em  and  drives  um  tuther  side  o'  de  Pokomuc 
river.'  Und  den  ole  missis  she  put  herpendence  in 
every  word  Mars  Harry  tole  her,  kase  when  he  rid 
off  I  heerd  her  tell  Miss  Alice  dat  her  boy  want 
agwine  to  be  gone  long,  and  dat  de  yankeys  was 
agwine  to  give  up  fore  dey  fit  ary  battle;  butbime- 
by,  when  ole  missus  seed  dat  Mars  Harry  mout 
not  git  a  furlow,  she  jest  gin  herself  up  to  die. 
All  de  day  long  pore  old  missis  would  walk  up  und 
down  de  piazzy  a  peekin'  froo  de  trees  und 
axin'  me  ef  I  spishioned  he  was  gwinn  to  git  kilt, 
nnd  d^-n  when  she  heerd  dat  our  fokeses  had  fit  de 
batt"e  of  Manassy,  me  und  ole  missis  sot  up  all 
night  long,  jes  a  watchin'  fer  Mars  Harry  t».  ride 
back  lak  he  rid  off;  but  no  Mars  Harry  neber  didn't 
come  back  twell  one  rainy,  grizzly  night  me  und 
ole  missis  heerd  a  clatter  down  de  road,  und  den 
we  heerd  somebody  say,  'Wo!  und  den  a  passel 
ov  soldiers  cum  up  to  missis  easy  like,  and  axed 
her  if  Mr.  Seymo'  lived  dere;  und  when  ole  mis 
sis  heerd  dat  word  und  seed  de  kivered  wagin,  she 
jes  drapped  down  into  de  road  dead.  Pore  ole  mis 
sis  !  l3e  soldiers  took  her  up  in  dere  arms  und 
toted  her  into  de  'grate  house,'  und  dere  was  her 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  19;; 

and  pore  Miss  Alice  in  hysteriks,  and  ole  marser 
not  a  sayin'  ary  wurd  but  a  chokin  'mos  to  def  ; 
imd  den  de  soldiers  went  back  to  de  kivered  wagin', 
and  I  heered  'em  a  draggin'  outen  it  a  great  big 
box,  and  I  seed  dem  totin  it  to  de  'grate  house'  jes 
as  easy  and  slow,  wid  dere  milinterry  hats  offen 
dere  heds  in  de  rain,  und  den  I  node  it  was  Mars 
Harry.  When  ole  missis  cum  to,  she  made  de  sol 
diers  take  de  led  offen  de  coffin,  und  dere  was  Mars 
Harry  a  lyin'  dere  wid  his  eyes  shot  right  tight,  a 
smilin  de  butifullest  all  to  hissef.  Ole  missis  sot 
dere  all  dat  nite  lak  a  grate  big  statu,  a  runnin  her 
fingers  f ru  his  hair  an'  a  talkin'  to  him  jes  de  same 
as  if  Mars  Harry  had  rid  back  frum  de  war  lak  he 
rid  off.  An'  den  ole  marsa  he  cum  in  und  looked 
at  Mars  Harry  a  smilin'  to  hissef,  an'  I  could  see 
ole  marsa  shake  an'  shake,  but  he  didn't  say  narry 
a  wurd,  an'  he  tuck  Mars  Harry's  sord  out  of  de  coffin; 
den  bimeby  I  heerd  him  say  he  was  agwine  to  venge 
his  death.  Ole  missis  soon  pined  erway,  cause 
Mars  Harry  was  her  eye-balls.  I  tells  ye  fokeses, 
dat  was  de  most  solemcholly  site  I  ever  seed  in  my 
born  days.  Poor  ole  missis  didn't  stay  long  arter 
Mars  Harry  died  ;  she  dun  gon  home  too,  an'  I 
specks  Mars  Harry  dun  tole  ole  missis  all  erbout 
de  battle  of  Manassy,  an'  how  he  fit  an'  how  he 
got  kilt;  und  erbout  dat  yankey  sord  he  nebber 
didn't  fotch  back." 

To  a  pateriial  ancestor  of  Colonel  John  Walter 
Seymour  has  been  ascribed  this  prayer  in  battle, 
"Oh  Lord,  thou  knowest  how  busy  I  must  be  this 
day.  If  I  forget  Thee,  do  not  Thou  forget  me." 
Then  rising,  he  gave  the  command,  "Forward, 
march  !  On,  my  lads!" 

At  eight  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  the  23rd  of 
October,  King  Charles  was  riding  along  the  ridge 
of  Edgehill,  and  looking  down  into  the  valley  of 
the  Red  Horse,  a  beautiful  meadow,  broken  here 


20  THE    BKOKEN    SWOBD. 

-•and  there  by  hedges  and  copses,  he  could  see  with 
his  glasses  the  parliamentary  army  as  they  march 
ed  out  of  the  town  of  Kleinton  and  aligned  their 
forces  in  battle  array. 

"I  never  saw  the  rebels  in  a  body  before,"  said 
the  king.  "I  will  give  them  battle  here."  There 
were  hot  words  around  the  royal  standard.  Rupert, 
a  dashing  young  general,  who  had  seen  the  swift, 
fiery  charges  of  the  fierce  troopers  in  the  thirty 
years  war,  was  backed  up  by  Patrick  Lord  Ruth- 
ven  and  Sir  Walter  Seymour,  among  the  many 
Scots  who  had  won  renown  under  the  great  Augus 
tus  Adolphus  and  opposed  fiercely  by  Lord  Lind- 
sey,  an  old  comrade  of  the  Earl  of  Essex,  com 
mander- in-chief  of  the  rebel  forces,  who  swore  by 
all  the  saints  in  the  calenda.r  that  he  would  not 
serve  again  in  an  army  under  a  boy,  referring  to 
Prince  Rupert,  who  was  assigned  by  the  king  to 
•command  the  army  at  Edge  Hill  that  day. 

It  was  to  this  circumstance  that  the  country  was 
indebted  for  the  prayer  aforesaid.  The  brave  sol 
dier,  unyielding  in  his  loyalty  to  the  king,  resign 
ed  his  command  as  a  general  to  command  his  com 
pany,  and  in  so  doing  gave  affront  to  Lord  Lindsay 
a.nd  the  king;  but  subsequently,  at  Scone,  the  king 
said  to  him,  "You  shall  accompany  me  to  London 
as  a  privy  counsellor." 

It  was  from  this  doughty  ancestor  of  blessed 
memory  that  John  Walter  Seymour  lineally  de 
scended.  I  have  seen  the  old  corselets,  shackbolts, 
shields  and  trefoils  of  that  chivalric  era  that  be 
longed  to  the  old  baronet.  Colonel  Seymour  had 
interested  himself  greatly  in  the  literature  of  that 
institutional  era  that  had  so  close  a  connection  with 
the  pomp  and  power  of  the  Feudal  system. 
He  spoke  learnedly  too  of  the  ideal  purity  of  the 
social  and  moral  code  of  the  age. 

The  Colonel  himself  was  no  ignoble  scion  of  so 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  2T 

noble  an  ancestor.  He  had  won  his  spurs  and  stars 
at  Malvern  Hill,  and  at  the  disbanding  of  the  army 
he  had  covered  the  faded  stars  upon  his  collar  with 
his  pocket  handkerchief  until  unobserved  he  could 
pluck  them  one  by  one  and  trample  them  under 
foot.  His  haughty  spirit  could  not  brook  the  shame 
that  overlaid  him  like  a  shroud  when  his  sword 
passed  out  of  his  hands  hilt  foremost  at  Appomat- 
tox.  He  had  taken  the  beautiful  Alice  Glendower 
from  a  neighboring  estate  as  his  wife  twenty-six 
years  ago,  and  now  in  the  year  186-,  though  a  shad 
ow  darkening  and  deepening  lay  athwart  heart  and 
home,  the  old  man  was  still  muttering  curses  long, 
loud  and  deep.  He  had  fully  assimilated  the  in 
dignant  spirit  of  Coriolanus.  "I  would  they  were^ 
barbarians  (as  they  are  though  in  Rome  littered),. 
not  Romans  as  they  are  not  though  calved  in  the 
porch  of  the  capitol."  His  only  surviving  child  Alice 
was  now  in  her  twenty-third  year.  Harry,  a  prince 
ly  fellow,  a  young  lieutenant  of  cavalry,  had  fall 
en  at  the  battle  of  Manassas  and  ever  since  that 
day  the  mother  had  steadily  declined  until  now  the 
end  had  almost  come.  The  likeness  of  the  dead 
boy  was  photographed  vividly  upon  her  heart 
and  every  tender  chord  was  ceaselessly  vibrating 
from  the  presence  of  a  grief,  that  recreated  fancies- 
and  memories  that  brought  back  to  her  the  van 
ished  idol.  God  s  peace  had  settled  upon  the  old 
home  and  its  hearth  stones,  one  beautiful  Sabbath 
morning,  as  the  Colonel,  his  daughter  and  old  Clar 
issa  had  assembled  in  Mrs.  Seymours' s  bed  cham 
ber.  The  light  of  the  morning  sun  shimmered 
through  open  windows,  and  the  shadows  of  the 
tree  boughs  like  imprisoned  fairies  danced  in  co- 
tilion  upon  the  polished  floor.  "The  birds  are  sing 
ing  so  sweetly  to-day,"  observed  the  sick  lady. 

''Yes  indeed,  they  are,''  replied  her  husband. 

"My  dear,"  she  said  as  she   turned  her  face  to>- 


22  T.HE  BROKEN  SWO.RD. 

him,  "I  have  been  greatly  troubled  by  a  horrid 
dream." 

"Landsakes  alive  ole  missis,"  interrupted  Clar 
issa,  "don't  yu  pester  yoursef  to  def  erbout  dreams 
these  outlandish  times.  Dey  is  bad  enuff  goodness 
nose  widout  dreaming  dreams.  Ned  he  jumped 
clean  outen  de  bed  tother  nite  hollering  for  his  ole 
muskit  lak  he  was  agwine  to  war — his  eyes  fairly 
a  sot  in  his  head  lak  a  craw-fish  and  a  tarryfying 
me  to  def  and  hollering  'fire  !  fire  !'  and  a  foaming 
at  the  mouf  lak  a  mad  dog,  und  duz  yu  know  what 
I  dun  ole  missis?  when  dat  drotted  nigger  hollered 
fire  !  fire !  I  jes  retched  ober  de  table  an'  got  de 
pale  of  water  an'  I  put  out  dat  fire  fore  Ned  skover- 
ed  whay  hit  war.  Dat  fool  nigger  walks  perpen- 
dikler,  now  yu  heers  my  racket."  She  laughed 
again  and  again  as  she  continued:  "And  Ned  he 
wanted  to  fight;  he  was  most  drounded." 

There  was  little  of  sentiment  and  less  of  diplo 
macy  in  the  character  of  Colonel  Seymour;  though 
he  was  exceedingly  tolerant  toward  Clarissa  with 
her  little  vagaries  and  superstitions.  What  the 
dream  of  the  good  lady  was  has  never  been  known 
— the  narrative  was  rudely  broken  off  by  the  inter 
ruption  of  Clarissa. 

Would  you  know  sweet  Alice  more  intimately  '(  I 
cannot  portray  her  as  she  deserves;  her  heart  was 
like  so  many  little  cells  into  which  were  unceasing 
ly  dropping  the  honey  of  blue  thistle  blossoms  of 
charity.  In  every  den  of  wretchedness;  in  every 
hovel  where  squalor  and  disease  disputed  all  other 
dominions,  she  was  a  beam  of  sunshine,  giving 
warmth  and  cheer  and  joy.  The  little  star-eyed 
daisies  in  the  meadow  would  turn  up  their  tiny  faces 
to  greet  her  with  smiles  as  she  would  pass  them  day 
after  day  with  the  little  basket  upon  her  arm;  God 
had  put  her  here  among  these  poor  people — among 
the  deluded  negroes  as  his  missionary,  and  I  am 


THE   BROKEN    SWORD.  23 

quite  sure  He  was  pleased  with  her  work.  I  can 
not  describe  her  beauty  and  grace  of  person  better 
than  in  the  natural  and  characteristic  language  of 
Clarissa  "Miss  Alice,1'  she  would  say,  "Yu  is  the 
most  butifullest  white  gal  I  ever  seed  in  de  wurrel; 
yer  cheek  is  jes  lak  mellow  wine-sop  apples,  und 
yer  eyes  is  blu  und  bright  lak  agate  marbles,  und 
yer  teeth  as  white  as  de  dribben  snow,  und  when 
yer  laffs,  pen  pon  it,  even  de  birds  in  de  trees  stops 
to  lisen;  und  yu  is  jes  as  suple  und  spry  as  de  clown 
in  de  show." 

Golden  tresses  like  a  nimbus  of  glory  adorned 
her  queenly  head.  Eyes  of  blue  graduated  to  the 
softest  tint;  cheeks  that  transfered  the  deep  blush 
from  tender  spring  blossoms.  Something  in  her 
there  was  that  set  you  to  thinking  of  those  "strange 
back-grounds  of  Raphael — that  hectic  and  deep 
brief  twilight  in  which  Southern  suns  fall  asleep." 
With  Alice  in  her  presence,  Clarissa  felt  no  evil; 
when  the  storm  came  with  blinding  fire,  its  fierce 
thunders,  her  refuge  was  by  her  side.  She  was  her 
inspiration,  her  providence.  The  gentle  hand  upon 
the  hot  brow  and  there  came  relief;  an  old  fashion 
ed  lullaby  from  her  sweet  lips  and  the  fevered 
pickaninny  in  the  cradle  would  turn  upon  his  side 
and  fall  into  a  grateful  slumber.  A  prayer  spoken 
out  of  a  heart  touched  by  pity  or  sorrow,  and  in 
stantly  another  heart  would  be  uplifted  in  thanks 
giving.  She  exercised  too  a  power  over  the  freed 
slaves  that  made  captive  to  her  will  almost  all  the 
stubborn  and  rebellious  negroes.  Old,  Ned  would 
have  plucked  out  his  eyes  for  her  and  cast  them  at 
her  feet;  so  would  Clarissa,  so  would  Clarabel;  so 
would  old  Caesar  and  Hannah  and  Joshua.  Only 
these  rebelled  against  her  influence,  to  wit:  Aleck, 
Miles  and  Ephraim.  Clarissa  would  say  to  her 
young  mistress  so  inquisitively,  "Miss  Alice,  why 
do^'t  yu  git  married?  Peers  like  child  yer  is  too 


24  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

sweet  and  pretty  to  live  allusby  yer  lone,  lorn  self. 
Yer  aint  allers  gwine  to  be  'ticin  an  butiful  like 
yer  is  now.  By  and  by  de  crow's  foot  is  agwine  to 
cum  into  yer  lubly  face  and  dere  is  gwine  to  be 
kurlikus  and  frowns  in  yo  eyes  jes^lak  yo  mam 
my's;  she  used  to  be  pretty  und  lubly  jes'  lak  you, 
and  whar  is  she  now  \  De  boys  aint  gwine  to  brak 
their  necks  over  you  when  yer  gets  ole  an'  ugly, 
nuther.  Now  dey  is  lak  apassel  ov  yallow  jackets 
a  swarmin'  a-roun  my  house,  and  axin  me  dis  ting 
an'  tuther  ting  about  dare  sweetheart,  and  bress 
yo  dear  life  I  has  to  keep  a  patchin'  up  de  fence 
whar  dey  climbs  ober  to  keep  de  horgs  an'  cattle 
beastes  out  o  de  crap.  Dey  is  afraid  to  cum  to  de 
'grate  house;'  skeert  of  yu  an'  ole  marser.  Ole 
Mars  John  aim  gwine  to  be  here  allus,  nuther;  see 
how  crank-sided  he  is  gettin'  an'  so  ill  an'  contrawy 
that  we  das'nt  projec'  wid  him  no  mo;  an'  whar 
wud  yu  be  chile  in  dis  grate,  big  house  und  dis 
grate  big  plantashun  wid  de  cussed  niggers  a 
marchin'  an'  a  beatin'  drums  an'  a  shootin'  guns 
lak  ole  Sherman  s  army,  treadin'  down  de  corn  an' 
'taters  und  a  momickin'  up  de  chickins  und  de 
sheepses  und  de  cattle  beastes?  'Taint  agwine  to 
do  nohow.  Dat  it  aint.  I  kin  count  fourteen 
portly  yung  'uns  dat  wud  jump  clean  akross  de 
crick  fer  yer  any  hour  God  sends." 

Alice  could  only  silently  hearken  to  the  force  of 
such  plain,  matter-of-fact  reasoning,  but  poor  girl, 
there  was  not  a  single  niche  in  her  heart  into  which 
she  could  lift  an  idol.  Within  the  shrine  there  were 
nothing  but  soulless  effigies,  so  faded  and  old  and 
lifeless  that  they  recalled  only  battle-fields  and 
sepulchres.  "Will  her  prince  never  come,  into 
whose  eyes  she  can  see  mirrored  her  own  self,  her 
soul  in  its  beauty,  love  and  happiness?"  Do  you 
ask?  There  is  a  medallion  that  hangs  by  a  golden 


THE   BROKEN    SWORD.  25 

chain  across  her  fair  bosom.     "How  long  had  she 
worn  it  there,"  think  you  ?     Ever  since 

"She  was  a  child  and  he  was  a  child, 

In  this  kingdom  by  the  sea; 
When  she  loved  with  a  love  that  was  more  than  love, 

Alice  and  Arthur  McRae." 


CHAPTER    II. 


OUR    SCOTCH-IRISH. 

A  person  on  entering  the  library  in  an  old-fash- 
ioned  mansion,  situated  in  the  heart  of  a  country 
that  was  very  beautiful  in  the  landscaping  of  na 
ture,    at  eleven  a.    m.   of   the  12th  of  November, 
would  have  observed  a  venerable  gentleman  reclin 
ing  upon  an  antique   sofa,  plainly  upholstered  in 
morocco.     The  gentleman  was  reading  from  a  book 
entitled,  "The  Life  and  Speeches  of  Daniel  Web 
ster."     The  stranger  might  have  further  observed, 
that  the  right  hand  of   the  old  gentleman  would 
now  and  again  move  with  some  energy  of  expres 
sion,  as  if  he  were  punctuating  a  particular  para 
graph  by  an  emphatic  dissent.  If  the  reader  had 
been  asked  for  an  opinion  as  to  the  character  and 
ability  of    the  illustrious  commoner,   whose  views 
were   so   logically    expressed  in   the   memoir,    he 
would  have  said  without  hesitation,  that  "He  pos 
sessed  the  acumen  of  the  wisest  of  statesmen,  but 
that  his  opinions  as  a  strict   constructionist  were 
extra  hazardous,  indeed  out  of  harmony  with  the 
true  theory  of  a  republican  form  of  government — a 
government  of  co  ordinate  states  that  had  entered' 
voluntarily   into   a   compact    for  a   more   perfect 
union.     But  (he  may  have  continued)  against  the 
doctrine  of  nullification,  indeed   against  the  ordi 
nances  of  secession,  the  irony  of  fate,  through  thisv 


26  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

great  man,  projected  an  argument  whose  logic  was 
irrefutable  in  its  last  analysis.  Foreshadowed 
•events  put  into  the  mouth  of  Mr.  Webster  a  men 
ace,  whose  uninterpretable  meaning  in  1833  was 
clearly  understood  when  the  baleful  power  of  the 
«torm  swept  from  the  high  seas  the  last  privateer 
with  its  letter  of  marque,  disbanded  the  last  armed 
scout  south  of  the  breakwater  of  the  Delaware, 
and  broke  the  heart  of  the  greatest  warrior  since 
Charlemagne;  a  chieftain  more  honored  in  defeat 
than  Hannibal, or  Napoleon,  or  Sobieski,or  the  great 
Frederick.  This  master  craftsman  in  the  construc 
tion  corps  of  the  Republic;  whose  resourceful  in 
tellect  engrafted  a  principle  as  fixed  and  inviolable 
into  the  Constitution  as  fate,  propelled  against  the 
equity  of  'peaceful  separation'  the  weight  of  an 
overmastering  influence.  This  menace  to  the  South 
marked  the  tumultuous  h^art-beats  of  the  commer 
cial  North,  when  it  contemplated  the  separation  of 
indestructible  states.  It  made  of  the  Republic 
a  huge  camp  of  instruction,  into  which  the  nations 
of  the  earth  were  perpetually  dumping  their  ivfuse 
populations;  it  girdled  the  South  with  a  cincture 
of  embattled  mercenaries;  it  imparted  to  the  Con 
stitution  a  disciplinary  vigor;  it  gave  to  partisan 
legislation  an  inspiration;  it  gave  to  centralized 
power  an  omnipotent  reserve  that  unnerved  every 
arm,  paralyzed  every  tongue,  and  rendered  organ 
ized  effort  abortive  in  the  crucial  struggle  for 
Southern  independence.  Bur.  sir,  (and  the  eyes  of 
the  old  man  would  gleam  as  with  the  light  of  an 
overpowering  genius),  a  government  created  by  the 
States,  amendable  by  the  States,  preserved  by  the 
States,  may  be  annihilated  by  the  States," 

It  was  one  of  those  leaky,  bleak  November  days, 
when  the  weather,  out  of  temper  with  itself,  is  con 
tinually  making  wry  faces  at  the  rain  and  the  for 
est  and  the  cattle,  that  a  gentleman  lately  arrived 


THE    BROKEN    SWoRD.  27 

from  the  auld  town  of  Edinboro,  shook  the  glisten 
ing  rain-drops  from  his  shaggy  talma  in  the  great 
hall  of  Ingleside,  as  he  observed  to  the  host  with 
a  smile,  "  Thot  it  was  a  wee  bit  scrowie,  but  the 
weether  wad  be  fayre  in  its  ain  gude  time."  It 
was  indeed  one  of  those  leaden  days  that  occasion 
ally  comes  in  the  Southland  with  the  November 
chills,  pinching  the  herds  that  are  out  upon  the 
glades  and  meadows,  when  the  winds  sang  in  the 
tree  boughs  with  a  strange  and  melancholy  rhythm. 
A  sailor  passing  up  the  forward  ladder  from  the 
forecastle  to  observe  the  weather  would  say,  with 
a  shudder,  that  it  was  a  "greasy  day,"  and  that 
the  sky  and  shrouds  and  storm-sails  were  leaky. 
Col.  Seymour,  upon  ordinary  occasions,  was  a  gen 
tleman  of  discrimination,  and  his  judgment  of 
character  was  fairly  correct.  Like  the  true  Scotch 
Southron, as  he  was.  he  had  his  own  ideals,  his  own 
loves  and  his  own  idiosyncracies.  He  loved  Scot 
land  and  her  people,  her  memories,  her  history, 
her  renown,  her  trossachs,  her  lakes,  her  moun 
tains  ;  they  were  his  people,  and  Scotland  was  the 
"ain  love  of  his  fayther  and  mither."  He  had  not 
forgotten  the  language  of  her  beautiful  hills  and 
vales,  though  he  was  a  boy  when,  with  his  parents, 
he  bade  adieu  to  his  bonny  country  to  find  a  home 
across  the  water  in  the  Old  North  State,  so  prodi 
gal  and  impartial  in  the  distribution  of  honors  and 
riches  to  all  who  came  with  clean  hands  and  stout 
hearts.  So  when  the  neat  and  genteel  Scotchman 
gave  his  name  as  Hugh  McAden,  the  old  man's 
heart  impulsively  warmed  towards  his  guest,  for 
he  knew  of  a  verity  that  a  McAden  everywhere  was 
a  man  of  honor — the  name,  an  open  sesame  to  the 
hearts  and  homes  of  Scotch  Americans. 

"I  will  make  you  very  comfortable  to-day,  sir," 
he  observed,  as  he  escorted  Mr.  McAden  to  his 
library.  There  were  great  hickory  logs,  half  con- 


28  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

sumed,  resting  upon  the  antiquated  brass  andirons 
in  the  fire-place,  giving  warmth  and  cheer  to  the 
whole  room.  The  stranger,  rubbing  his  hands  vig 
orously,  for  they  were  very  cold  and  stiff,  observed 
interrogatively,  "You  do  not  let  the  chill  ond 
weet  coom  into  the  hoose?" 

"No  indeed,"  replied  the  Colonel  with  a  broad 
smile,  "these  inflictions  are  for  other  folks,  whose 
liberty  is  upon  the  highways  and  in  the  forests  in 
such  weather.'' 

"Ah,  for  ither  fauk;  may-be  the  nay^urs," 
laughingly  suggested  the  Scotchman. 

"Yes,  you  can  hear  the  guns  in  the  woods,  where 
they  are  hunting  cattle  not  their  own.  You  can 
see  drunken  squads  marching  npon  the  roads  upon 
such  a  day." 

"Ah!"  he  exclaimed,  "ond  do  ye  call  this  free 
America?  May-be  ye  hae  no  goovernment  as  ye 
haed  lang  syne,  ond  no  law  ither." 

The  Colonel  assured  the  gentleman  that  public 
affairs  were  at  sixes  and  sevens,  and  the  negroes 
now  held  the  mastery  over  their  former  owners, 
and  their  discipline  wa**  not  over  indulgent." 

"Ond-  do  the  naygurs  make  the  laws  for  sic  as 
you?"  he  enquired  in  a  startled  way. 

"Oh  yes,"  replied  the  Colonel,  quite  seriously. 

"Alack-a-day!  '  exclaimed  the  astonished  roan. 
"The  deil  take  sic  a  goovernment,  ond  the  deil  tak 
sic  a  coontry,  ond  the  deil  tak  the  naygurs!  Coom 
to  Edinboro,  mon,  where  there  is  not  o'ermuch  sil 
ler,  but  where  ivery  mon  is  his  ain  laird,  ond  his 
hoose  is  his  ain  hame.  Ye  ken  fine  that  I  am  a 
stranger  hereaboot.  Ond  will  the  naygurs  harm  a 
poor  mishanalled  mon  like  me?"  he  enquired  in 
alarm.  The  Colonel,  with  an  effort  to  conceal  his 
mirth,  reassured  his  friend  that  no  harm  would 
come  to  him. 

"Ond  wad  ye  say,"   the  Scotchman  interrupted, 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  29 

"that  amang  the  naygurs  ond  sic  a  government, 
that  a  puir  body  wad  hae  the  protection  o'  his  ain 
queen?"  he  again  asked,  with  his  fears  still  unsub 
dued.  The  amiable  host,  shaking  from  an  effort  at 
self-control,  again  remarked  that  the  carpet-bag 
government  had  made  no  attempt  at  personal  vio 
lence  upon  strangers,  and  that  he  was  as  safe  here 
as  in  his  own  city  of  Edinboro;  and  the  Scotchman 
laughed  away  his  fears. 

'Sic  an  auld  fule!''  he  exclaimed  in  great  glee. 
"I  am  hardly  masel  in  these  lowlands,"  the  Scotch 
man  continued,  as  the  conversation  changed  into 
more  agreeable  channels.  "Ye  hae  na  moontains 
ond  bonuie  hills  hereaboot,"  he  continued,  as  he 
looked  from  the  window  upon  the  low-lying  fields 
and  meadows. 

"But,  my  friend,"  replied  the  Colonel,  "if  you 
will  abide  with  me  for  awhile  you  will  quite  forget 
your  mountains,  for  there  is  a  charm  and  freshness 
in  the  landscape  here  when  you  become  familiar 
with  it." 

"I  am  sure  of  thot,"  quickly  answered  the  guest; 
"but  ye  ken  fine  that  a  puir  body  must  abide  in 
his  ain  hame.  What  wad  a  man  do  in  th'  Sooth- 
land  wi'  his  beezeness  in  Edinboro  ?"  And  the 
Scotchman  smiled  as  he  asked  the  unanswerable 
question.  "Ah,  well,"  the  Colonel  replied  with 
an  assumed  dignity,  "you  would  do  as  we  do." 

"Ond  what  is  thot?"  asked  the  Scotchman. 

"Swear  and  vapor  from  early  morn  to  dewy  eve." 

"Ah!  thot  wad  na  do,  thot  wad  na  do,  '  he  re 
plied,  horrified  at  such  a  suggestion,  "The  meen- 
ister  in  holy  kirk  wad  discipline  a  puir  body,  ond 
the  deil  wad  be  to  play.  I  guess  I'll  gang  name 
agen  ond  do  as  ilka  fauk  do  in  th'  auld  toon." 

The  Colonel  had  not  been  so  happy  in  many  a 
day  as  with  the  i>lain,  matter-of-fact  Scotchman, 
in  a  sense,  a  type  and  representative  of  his  own 


30  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

people,  and  a  man  who  could  speak  so  eloquently 
of  the  fadeless  glory  of  old  Scotland. 

"Hae  ye  nae  gude  wife  ond  bairns  ?"  he  enquired. 

"Yes,  an  invalid  wife  and  an  only  child,  sir," 
said  the  Colonel,  as  tears  began  to  gather  in  his 
eyes.  "My  only  son,  sir,  was  slain  in  battle  some 
years  ago." 

"Ond  was  it  for  sic  a  goovernment  as  ye  hae  noo, 
that  ye  gaed  up  your  bonnie  lad  to  dee  ?"  he  asked 
quite  innocently. 

The  old  man  bowed  his  head  in  silent  grief.  He 
could  not  answer,  and  he  walked  across  the  room 
and  looked  out  upon  the  murky  sky — a  funereal 
coverlid,  it  appeared,  laid  over  the  grave  of  poor 
Harry. 

"Pair  lad,"  uttered  Mr.  McAden,  half  aside,  as 
he  drew  his  handkerchief  across  his  face  and  gazed 
abstractedly  into  ths  blazing  fire.  It  was  quite  an 
int-rval  before  the  Colonel  was  able  to  subdue  this 
paroxysm  of  grief  that  had  quite  overcome  him, 
and,  availing  himself  of  the  earliest  opportunity 
to  excuse  himself,  withdrew  from  the  room.  To  Mr. 
McAden  the  moment  was  fraught  with  sincere  sor 
row.  He  had  unwittingly  opened  the  sluice-way  at 
the  veteran's  heart,  and  great  tides,  crimsoned,  as  it 
seemed,  with  the  blood  of  poor  Harry,  were  pour 
ing  into  it.  He  could  find  no  surcease  only  in  the 
oft-repeated  exclamation  of  reproach. 

"Sic  an  auld  f ule  !  Sic  an  auld  fule  !  But  I 
thocht  the  mon  was  o'er  happy  in  the  love  of  his 
gude  wife  ond  the  bairn.  Haed  I  thocht  thot 
the  lad  had  deed  in  battle,  I  wad  na  gaed  him  sic 
a  sair  thrust  in  his  auld  heart." 

The  Colonel  retired  to  his  own  chamber  to  repair 
the  injury  that  had  been  done  to  his  feelings,  and 
presently  he  returned  with  a  smiling  face,  accom 
panied  by  his  daughter,  and  he  said,  introducing 
her 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  31 

"This  sir,  is  my  daughter,  Alice." 

"Ah!"  exclaimed  Mr.  McAden,  rising  with  ex 
tended  hand,  "The  lassie  is  like  the  sire,  Coonel. 
I  can  see  the  fayther  in  her  een." 

"And  the  counterpart  of  her  mither  in  all  except 
the  een,''  replied  her  father. 

"You  ond  the  gude  wife  ond  the  lassie  must 
coom  to  Edinboro,  Coonel;  ye  ken  tine  thot  her 
rooyal  men  ond  weemen  are  i'  th'  groond  noo,  ond 
there  are  memorials  here  ond  there  in  the  auld 
kirk-yards  where  their  puir  bodies  are  laid,  but 
our  men  ond  weemen  still  are  vera  fayre  ond  gen 
tle,  ond  we  niver  put  our  een  upon  a  naygur.  Ond, 
now  thot  I  can  abide  nae  langer  wr  ye,  will  ye  nae 
tell  me  a  wee  bit  o'  the  history  o'  our  ain  fauk  in 
the  Soothland,  for  ye  ken  fine  thot  the  auld  anes- 
wad  be  askin  aboot  this  ane  ond  thot  ane,  in  fine 
all  aboot  the  Scotch  in  your  ain  coontry,  when  I 
gae  hame  to  Edinboro." 

The  subject  referred  to  by  the  Scotchman  was- 
full  of  a  picturesque  interest,  and  no  man  in  the 
Southland  took  a  higher  delight  in  imparting  such 
information  as  he  could  command,  than  Colonel 
Seymour.  Turning  his  old  arm-chair  so  that  he 
could  observe  his  guest  more  closely,  he  began: 

"The  characteristics  of  these  people  are  inefface- 
ably  impressed  upon  our  civilization.  Indeed  they 
are  as  deeply  grounded  into  the  religious  and 
social  soil  of  North  Carolina,  as  though  they  had 
taken  root  like  the  rhododendron  under  the  rocks- 
and  in  the  fissures  of  our  hills  and  mountains. 
The  Scotch-Irish  American,  with  gigantic  strides, 
has  at  last  sat  himself  down  upon  the  loftiest  pinna- 
cle  of  our  19th  century  civilization.  He  has  never 
yielded  to  oppression;  he  has  never  compounded 
with  evil.  These  brave  people,  bringing  hither  the 
virtues  of  their  fathers  as  well  as  their  own,  have 
given  North  Carolina  its  most  luminous  page.  They 


32  THE    BKOKEN    SWORD. 

made  the  earliest  industry  of  the  Cape  Fear — the 
industry  of  colonization.  It  was  an  industry  that 
sought  to  provide  homes  for  the  people,  and  to  dig 
nify  labor  and  life  in  the  midst  of  surroundings 
that  taxed  every  resource  of  action,  and  the  ulti 
mate  verge  of  human  daring;  an  industry  that  em 
ployed  the  plainest  instruments — the  axe  to  hew 
down  the  forest,  and  the  plow  to  turn  the  furrow. 
Their  primitive  sires  in  these  early  settlements  did 
not  control  those  powerful  auxiliaries  that  now 
multiply  the  skill  of  man;  nor  did  they  enjoy  the 
aristocracy  of  the  recognized  power  of  wealth. 
They  cared  nothing  for  mammonism,  that  some 
philosophical  crank  has  defined  to  be  a  physical 
force  that  makes  men  invertebrates.  Here  was  life 
with  the  struggle  of  pioneers;  a  struggle  for  place 
rather  than  for  position;  for  homes  rather  than 
castles,  that  prepared  the  intellect  for  a  higher  de 
velopment,  and  man  for  ultimate  power.  The  vic 
tory  of  the  axe  and  plow  were  the  pre-ordained  an 
tecedents  to  the  victory  of  the  forum  and  pulpit, 
and  the  triumph  over  the  crude  obstructions  of  na 
ture  was  the  divine  prophecy  of  undisciplined  toil. 
Out  of  the  ruggedness  of  such  an  epoch  came  forth 
a  condition  of  virtue  and  integrity;  of  honest  and 
honorable  convictions;  of  sincere  patriotism;  of  a 
race  of  men  who  looked  to  themselves  only,  and 
originated  within  this  scant  domain  the  literature 
of  economic  life.  It  was  here  that  the  domestic 
sentiment  displayed  its  captivating  charm.  No 
where  on  earth  was  there  a  more  generous  lore  for 
children,  and  whenever  this  attribute  of  the  heart 
appears,  the  prophetic  benediction  of  Christ,  as 
childhood  lay  in  His  hallowed  arms,  is  fulfilled. 
Here  was  social  life,  too,  in  its  freedom,  pictur- 
esqueness  and  animation,  without  demoralizing 
conditions.  Away  northward  and  southward,  bays 
and  rivers  stretched  their  wedded  waves,  hills  hold- 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  33 

ing  in  their  dead  grasp  the  secrets  of  centuries;  the 
ancient  miracles  of  fire  and  water  where  chaos  had 
been  transfixed  in  its  primeval  hearings  ;  all  these 
were  here  subject  to  the  mighty  mastery  that  men 
should  eventually  exert,  and  side  by  side  with 
humble  homes,  arose  schools  and  churches — em 
blems  of  the  power  and  purity  of  the  people.  Here 
the  ambassadors  of  Christ  were  persuasive  with 
tongue,  fervent  in  spirit ;  they  felt  that  their  reli 
gion  was  more  ancient  than  government,  higher 
than  any  influence  ;  more  sacred  than  any  trust ; 
a  religion  that  was  benevolence  in  its  gentlest  mood, 
courage  in  its  boldest  daring,  affection  in  its  in- 
tensest  power  ;  philanthropy  in  its  widest  reach  ; 
patriotism  in  its  most  impassioned  vigor ;  reason 
in  its  broadest  display ;  the  mighty  heart  that 
throbbed  through  every  artery  ;  fed  every  muscle  ; 
sped  the  hidden  springs  of  an  electric  current 
through  every  nerve.  Such  were  and  are  "oor  ain 
fauk  in  th'  Soothland." 

"Ah,  I  ken  fine,"  replied  the  Scotchman  with 
enthusiasm,  "that  your  forebears  came  from  the 
hielands,  and  yoor  knowledge  of  the  gude  fauk  in 
yoor  ain  coontry  quite  surprises  me.  Did  ye  not 
say  that  yoor  fayther  ond  mither  came  from  Edin- 
boro?"  he  inquired  with  animation. 

"Yes,"  replied  the  Colonel,  "in  the  good  old 
days;  and  they  lie  buried  side  by  side  in  the  little 
cemetery  over  the  hill  yonder,  where  I  shall  rest 
after  a  wee  bit." 

"These  are  bonnie  lands  hereaboot,  but  there  is 
mony  a  glade  in  auld  Scotland  where  a  puir  body 
may  sleep  as  tranquilly,"  said  the  Scotchman  with 
feeling,  "ond  when  I  dee  my  sepulchre  shall  be 
near  the  auld  hame  where  there  are  no  naygurs 
ond  no  sic  a  goovernment,  in  th'  shadow  '  th'  auld 
kirk  o'  my  fayther  ond  mither." 
3 


34  THE   BROKEN    SWORD. 


CHAPTER  III. 


THE  ASSASSINS  OF  THE  PEACE  OF  THE  SOUTH.  • 

To  the  people  of  the  South  the  infliction  of  the 
carpet-bag  government  was  an  outrage  that  ''smell- 
ed  to  heaven."  The  changed  character — the  deg 
radation  of  the  South  was  a  deplorable  conse 
quence — it  was  the  inoculating  of  a  virus  into  the 
circulation  of  the  body  politic  that  it  will  take  a 
century  to  cleanse. 

The  power  of  attanting  and  confiscating,  forbid 
den  by  the  law  from  a  full  knowledge  of  its  la 
mentable  use  by  the  factious  parliaments  of  Great 
Britain,  was  shamelessly  exercised  by  local  juris 
dictions  of  the  South  until  nothing  was  left  to  the 
most  virtuous  of  patriots  but  their  name,  their 
character,  and  the  fragrance  of  their  great  and 
illustrious  actions,  to  go  down  to  posterity.  A 
stranger  coming  to  any  legislature  would  have 
taken  it  at  one  time  for  a  disorderly  club-room, 
where  ignorant  and  vicious  partisans,  white  and 
black,  were  assembled  to  lay  plans  for  their  own 
aggrandizement  and  the  prostration  of  the  coun 
try.  At  another  time  he  would  suppose  it  to  be  a 
hustings  for  the  delivery  of  electioneering  har 
angues;  at  another,  an  areopagus  for  the  condem 
nation  of  all  virtuous  men;  then  a  theatre,  for  the 
entertainment  of  a  most  diverted  auditory;  always 
a  laboratory  for  the  compounding  of  alarms, 
conspiracies  and  panics.  In  the  delibera 
tions  of  the  members  there  was  no  check  to  the 
license  of  debate,  or  the  prodigal  expenditure  of 
money;  no  voice  to  control  their  judgments  of  out 
lawry  and  sequestration.  Radamanthus  himself, 
in  some  stage  of  his  infernal  process,  would  at 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  35 

least  listen  to  his  victim;  "First  lie  punisheth, 
then  he  listeneth,  and  lastly  he  compelleth  to  con 
fess."  The  inventors  of  mythology  could  not  con 
ceive  of  a  Tartarus  so  regardless  of  the  forms  of 
justice  as  not  to  allow  the  souls  of  the  condemned 
to  speak  for  themselves;  but  reconstruction,  tramp 
ling  upon  all  laws,  denied  to  the  long-suffering- 
people  of  the  South  the  right  to  plead  their  inno 
cence  in  the  face  of  the  concentrated  accumulation 
of  frightful  accusations, all  founded  upon  the  "base 
less  fabric  of  a  vision." 

Centuries  ago  the  last  saurian  died  in  the  ooze  of 
the  bad  lands  in  Kansas,  but  by  an  unnatural  law 
of  reproduction  the  carpet  bagger  and  scalawag, 
with  the  same  destructive  instincts,  with  the  same 
malodorous  presence,  found  its  bed  of  slime  in  the 
heart  of  the  South  and  disported  with  a  devilish 
energy.  Monsters  of  malice,  spawning  evil  gen 
dering  fanaticism,  focussed  their  evil  eye  upon  the 
millions  of  freedmen,  whose  destiny  and  happiness 
were  closely  interwoven  with  their  old  masters ; 
with  masters  who  had  yielded  their  swords  but  not 
their  honor;  who  were  "discouraged,  yet  erect;  per 
plexed,  yet  not  unto  despair;  pursued,  yet  not  for- 
8a<ken;  smitten  down,  yet  not  conquered."  The 
poor  negro,  under  the  seductive  charms  of  these 
human  serpents,  languished,  and  languishing,  did 
die. 

The  carpet-baggers  preached  to  the  negroes  an 
anti-slavery  God,  from  the  gospel  of  hate,  of  re 
venge.  Slavery  was  the  tempest  of  their  poor 
souls,  and  revenge  must  assuage  the  swollen  floods. 
"The  thronged  cities — the  marks  of  Southern  pros 
perity  and  the  monuments  of  Southern  civiliza 
tion,"  said  they,  "are  yours,  yours  to  enjoy,  to  alien 
ate,  to  transmit  to  posterity.  Your  empire  is  es- 
tablishedjndestructibly  throughout  the  new  South. 
This  land  shall  not  be  permitted  to  remain  as  a  lair 


36  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

for  the  wild  beasts  that  have  clutched  at  the  throat 
of  this  republic  to  destroy  it.  We  have  heard 
the  cries  of  our  Israel  in  bondage,  and  we  have 
come  to  give  you  the  land  that  flows  with  milk  and 
honey."  Poor  black  souls  !  What  a  delusion  !  The 
day  will  surely  come  when  the  curtain  shall  be 
drawn  and  the  deceivers,  active  and  dormant,  in 
this  dark  tragedy,  shall  be  dragged  before  the  foot 
lights  to  receive  the  curse  of  an  indignant  repro 
bation.  Poor  negro  !  He  is  starving  for  bread  and 
they  give  him  the  elective  franchise.  He  begs  to  be 
emancipated  from  hunger,  and  they  decree  that  he 
shall  be  a  freedman. 

Who  will  dare  assert  that  the  pride,  the  patriot 
ism,  the  spirit  of  the  South  was  not  alarmingly 
compromised  by  the  issues  of  the  Civil  War? — a 
war  that  was  the  exercise  of  both  violence  and  dis 
cipline  by  sovereign  authority.  We  are  told  that 
wars  are  an  evil,  come  when  they  may;  they  are 
just  or  unjust,  moral  or  immoral,  civilized  or  sav 
age,  as  the  ingredients  of  violated  rights — demand 
of  reparation  and  refusal — shall  be  observed,  neg 
lected  or  abused.  Perhaps  the  prostrated  South 
should  have  been  advertent  to  this  fact  before  she 
delivered  the  first  blow.  But  whether  right  or 
wrong,  when  the  armies  were  disbanded,  when  it 
yielded  its  organic  being — its  sovereignty — to  over 
whelming  resources  and  numbers,  the  law  of  na 
tions  laid  upon  the  paramount  sovereignty  obliga 
tions  which  have  never  been  performed,  either  in 
letter  or  spirit.  The  government  that  re-instated 
its  authority  was  bound  by  a  circle  of  morals,  in 
cluding  the  obligations  of  justice  and  mercy,  re 
ciprocally  acting  and  reacting. 

The  emancipation  of  five  million  slaves  was  a 
supplemental  act  of  war;  a  renewed  declaration 
that  the  tramp  of  embattled  armies  should  echo 
and  re-echo  from  the  Potomac  to  the  Rib  Grande, 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  37 

until  the  foot  of  a  slave  should  not  press  its  "pollu- 
uted"  soil.  Their  enfranchisement  was  neither  an 
act  of  war  or  of  exasperation,  but  an  act  of  diplo 
macy,  extra-hazardous  as  results  have  shown,  with 
the  effect  of  humiliating  the  conquered  South.  It 
introduced  throughout  the  South  a  sacrilegious 
arm  against  the  fairest  superstructure  of  Christian 
manhood  the  world  has  ever  known;  stamped  the 
history  of  the  nation  with  dishonor,  and  betrayed 
the  proudest  experiment  in  favor  of  the  rights  of 
man.  It  taught  the  freedmen,  through  the  vicious 
counsel  of  intriguing,  designing  demagogues,  that 
their  liberty  was  still  insecure;  that  to  accomplish 
it  in  its  ultimate  triumph  and  blessing,  the  savage 
axe  must  be  laid  at  the  root  of  the  social  institu 
tions;  that  they  must  lay  violent  hands  upon  the 
men,  women  and  children  who  had  made  their 
emancipation  an  accomplished  fact.  Hence  a  war 
whose  horrors  should  be  accentuated  by  the  lighted 
torch  was  inaugurated,  and  an  inglorious  campaign 
of  reprisals  by  placable  tools,  whose  zeal  to  preserve 
what  they  now  purposed  in  their  blind  fanaticism 
to  destroy,  was  a  few  years  before  as  ardent  and 
persevering 

Poor,  pitiable,  deluded  human  beings,  who  as 
chattels  real — impedimenta  of  Southern  planta 
tions — had  guarded  the  peace  of  the  home,  and 
many  of  whom  were  faithful  unto  death  ! 

Reconstruction  superimposed  an  artificial  citi 
zenship — a  citizenship  essentially  lacking  in  every 
resource  of  intellectual  strength — it  was  without 
ideals  or  examples  for  the  government  of  the  freed 
men  of  the  proud  Southern  commonwealths.  The 
allegiance  of  the  negroes  was  as  friable  as  a  rope 
of  sand;  they  were  without  a  definite  conception  of 
the  responsibilities  of  sovereignty — without  a  fixed 
principle  to  guide  them  in  governmental  policy — 
with  impulses  of  brutish  suggestion,  and  under 


461512 


38  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

masters  more  inexorable,  more  exacting  than  those 
they  had  deserted  upon  the  abandoned  plantations. 
How  painful  was  such  a  crisis  that  split  up  the  old 
South  into  disgraced  and  bleeding  fragments  ! 

We  come  to  speak  for  a  moment  of  the  microbes 
that  ate  their  way  into  the  hearts  of  the  seceded 
commonwealths,  while  the  ruins  of  southern  homes 
were  still  smoking;  and  before  the  blood  of  chival 
rous  southrons  had  dried  upon  our  battle-fields.  I 
commend  the  chalice  to  the  lips  of  those  who  will 
deny  the  truth  of  what  is  herein  written  and  desire 
that  such  a  man  might  realize  a  bare  modicum 
of  what  was  suffered  and  endured.  The  elective 
franchise  was  the  panacea  for  every  evil;  an  anti- 
spasmodic,  when  there  were  occasional  exacerba 
tions  in  the  public  mind;  our  fathers  valued  the 
elective  franchise  because  in  its  patriotic  expres 
sion  was  the  covenant  of  freemen. 

When  our  hopes  were  feeblest,  and  our  horizon 
darkest,  the  scalawag  fled  like  a  hound  to  the  shel 
tering  woods  whence  he  sallied  forth  like  an  out 
law.  The  reddened  disc  of  the  sun  that  went  down 
at  Appomattox  gave  him  an  inspiration  for  his  hel 
lish  work,  and  he  went  out  in  the  gloom  of  the  star 
less  night,  declaring  with  a  more  vicious  temper 
than  did  Henry  of  Agincourt  "the  fewer  the  men 
the  greater  the  honor"  or  in  its  appropriate  para 
phrase  ''the  deeper  the  pockets  the  greater  the 
spoil."  His  philanthropy  and  selfish  interests 
never  clash.  He  claimed  always  to  be  rigidly 
righteous,  and  was  seen  in  the  camp-meeting  and 
the  church  sanctified  and  demure  to  a  proverb. 
He  spoke  of  the  poor  negro  in  paroxysms  of  char 
ity — a  most  rare  benevolence  which  employed  its 
means  in  theft  and  crime;  a  charity  which  performs 
its  vows  and  gives  its  alms  with  money  plundered 
from  the  freedmen.  The  scalawag  like  other  un 
classified  vermin  was  without  respectable  antece- 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  39 

dents;  with  an  acute  sense  of  smell  like  the  "lap- 
heavy"  scout  of  the  Andes,  he  sought  his  prey  when 
there  was  no  fear  of  the  approach  of  man.  As  an 
Irish  barrister  once  wrote  upon  the  door  of  a  ple- 
bians  carriage,  "Why  do  you  laugh?"  so  the  hu 
morist  of  the  sixties  could  have  written  upon  the 
shirt-front  of  the  scalawag  "Why  do  people  hold 
their  noses?"  He  was  never  mentioned  by  natural 
ists,  unless  under  some  other  name  he  was  paired 
off  with  the  vulture.  In  reconstruction  days  the 
transformation  of  this  abortion  of  nature  from  vul 
ture  to  serpent  was  made  without  the  break  of  a 
feather  or  the  splitting  of  a  talon.  With  a  seduc 
tive  grimace  he  whispered  into  the  open  ear  of  the 
freedmen  "In  the  day  that  thou  eatest  thereof 
thou  shalt  not  surely  die."  He  was  as  much  an 
augury  of  evil  as  the  brood  of  ravens  that  once 
alighted  upon  Vespasian' s  pillar.  Had  he  been 
seen  plying  his  vocation  in  the  first  empire  Napo 
leon  would  have  said  to  Fouche,  "Shoot  the  accurs 
ed  beast  on  the  spot."  The  carpet  bagger  when 
not  fighting  the  pestiferous  vermin  in  the  Chicka 
hominy  swamps  was  pilfering.  He  went  into  the- 
army  conscripted  like  a  gentleman;  he  came  out  of 
the  army  at  night  when  the  back  of  the  sentry  was 
turned  and  without  a  furlough,  like  a  patriot. 
These  twain  were  the  autocrats  of  the  new  south, 
which  had  its  christening  in  the  blood  of  heroes; 
they  were  the  furies  that  rode  the  red  harlot  around 
the  circle,  when  her  Hanks  were  still  wet  with  hu 
man  slaughter,  and  her  speed  was  increased  by 
the  jeering  negroes.  When  Sister  Charity  in  an 
occasional  fit  would  fall  unconsciously  into  the  re 
ceptive  bosom  of  her  black  lover  in  the  prayer- 
meeting,  with  the  wild  exclamation  "Bress  Gord  I 
sees  de  hosses  und  de  chary ut  er  cumin!"  they 
would  clap  their  hands  in  joy  and  shout,  "Perse 
vere  in  the  good  cause  my  sister."  When  old  dea- 


40  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

con  Johnson  upon  some  happy  suggestion  from  the 
"sliding  elder"  would  turn  up  the  white  of  one 
eye,  they  would  turn  up  the  whites  of  the  others; 
and  when  deacon  Thompson  came  around  for  alms 
for  the  heathen,  they  would  slip  under  the  pen 
nies  a  brass-button  and  inwardly  thank  God  they 
were  not  like  the  poor  publican  or  the  hypocritical 
pharisee.  Their  first  meeting  with  the  freedmen 
was  flattering  and  agreeable;  it  was  an  expression 
of  frail  vows  of  love,  sweet  but  not  permanent, 
which  bore  but  the  perfume  and  dalliance  of  a  mo 
ment;  it  was  the  fusing  of  units  of  power  for  the 
purpose  of  spoil,  and  plunder.  Sambo  had  prayed 
ardently  for  this  revelation,  and  it  had  come.  The 
scalawag,  carpet-bagger,  and  freedrnan  were  par 
ties  of  the  first  part,  second  part  and  third  part 
in  the  tripartite  agreement,  until  the  negro  became 
the  party  of  no  part  or  the  worst  part,  and  he  be 
gan  to  mutter  to  himself  in  vulgar  doggerel: 

"Ort  is  er  ort  und  figc:er  H  er  figger, 

All  fur  de  white  man  und  none  fur  de  nigger." 

When  Sambo  stole  from  the  store  to  increase  the 
joint  stock-in-trade,  the  plunder  was  checked  off  in 
the  invoice  and  Sambo  was  checked  off  in  the  peni 
tentiary;  if  the  firm  went  into  liquidation  it  was 
because  its  active  and  suffering  partner  went  into- 
jail.  If  the  poor  negro  died  with  assets  the  car 
pet-bagger  "sot  upon  de  state"  like  a  carrion-crow 
upon  a  putrid  body.  These  human  harpies  were 
natural  sons  of  the  commune. 

The  dirty  co-partners  opened  up  business  in  the 
south,  as  soon  as  Sherman's  army  had  crossed  the 
border,  under  the  attractive  firm  name  and  style  of 
"The  Devil  broke  loose  in  Dixie."  The  iron-hoof 
of  war  had  so  cruelly  scathed  the  bosom  of  the 
south  that  it  was  like  an  over-ripe  carbuncle;  it  re- 


THE   BROKEN    SWORD.  41 

quired  a  little  scarifying  and  savage   hands   might 
squeeze  and  sponge  at  will. 

Credit  was  prostrate;  society  was  disorganized, 
treasuries  empty;  debt  like  a  huge  fragment  of  ice 
slipping  away  from  the  glacier  upon  the  mountain, 
was  gathering  volumn  and  momentum  as  it  rolled 
on  and  on,  and  the  poor  old  tottering,  reeling  coun 
try  was  still  struggling  on  like  a  bewildered  travel 
ler,  followed  by  wolves,  and  overshadowed  by  vul 
tures.  Corruption  and  ignorance  were  the  only 
passports  to  power.  No  modern  instance  of  wrong 
and  oppression  can  approach  this  Fructidor  of  the 
sixties  in  the  South.  Human  ghouls  not  so  black 
as  these  vomited  out,  the  Carbonari  of  Italy,  the 
Free  Companions  of  France  and  the  Moss  Troopers 
of  England. 

This  condition  of  things,  we  dare  assert,  is  with 
out  a  parralel  in  the  history  of  any  people,  in  any 
civilization.  Even  when  Rome  was  swayed  by  the 
keenest  lust  for  conquest  and  dominion,  their  le 
gions  conquered  the  barbaric  states,  not  to  degrade 
or  destroy,  but  to  attach  them  to  her  invincible 
arms.  Savage  vengeance  never  went  so  far  as  to 
place  the  slave  above  the  master  by  way  of  retribu 
tion.  This  was  the  exciting  cause  that  brought 
into  fullest  display  the  natural  law  of  reprisals 
and  retaliations  upon  the  part  of  the  Southern  peo 
ple. 

The  first  prominent  cause  of  public  disturbance 
of  which  the  carpet-baggers  were  the  authors  was 
a  most  thorough  and  secret  organization  of  the  ne 
groes  in  all  the  counties  into  Loyal  Leagues;  in 
many  instances  armed  and  adopting  all  the  formu 
la  of  signs,  pass-words  and  grips  of  an  oath  bound 
secret  organization.  When  the  negro  is  asked  why 
he  votes  the  Republican  ticket  his  simple  an 
swer  always  is,  "Why  Lor  bress  your  soul  Marsa,, 
we  swo  to  do  dat  in  de  League."  That  simple  an- 


42  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

swer  by  this  new  suffragist,  this  new  automaton  of 
the  ballot,  is  a  full  explanation  of  the  political  so 
lidity  of  the  negro  vote:  With  such  an  element  to 
work  upon,  ignorant  and  degraded,  the  carpet 
baggers,  fierce  and  rapacious,  have  found  them 
selves  in  Mahomet's  seventh  heaven  in  the  South. 
It  is  a  subject  of  interest  and  maybe  of  admoni 
tion  to  the  people  North  and  South,  how  political 
institutions,  in  an  age  of  the  highest  civiliza 
tion  and  under  the  most  explicit  constitutional 
forms, may  be  changed  or  abolished  by  a  process  of 
partisan  policy,  when  inaugurated  in  a  spirit  of 
hate,  revenge  or  avarice.  Pseudo-philanthropists 
may  talk  never  so  eloquently  about  an  "equality 
before  the  law"  when  equality  is  not  found  in  the 
great  natural  law  of  race  ordained  by  the  Creator. 
That  cannot  be  changed  by  statute  which  has  been 
irrevocably  fixed  by  the  fiat  of  the  Almighty.  The 
result  of  this  mongrel  combination  of  carpet-bag 
ger,  scalawag  and  negro;  this  composition  of 
vice  and  ignorance  and  rapacity,  was  plainly  seen 
everywhere.  Robbery  and  public  plunder  were 
rampant  in  the  State  capital.  The  expenses  of  gov 
ernment  were  at  once  increased  five  hundred  per 
cent.  Verily  the  pregnant  suggestion  of  the  car 
pet-bagger  that  the  only  way  to  bring  down  the 
white  people  of  the  South  to  the  level  of  the  negro 
was  to  tax  them  down,  was  carried  out  with  a  sweep 
ing  vengeance.  These  thieves  and  robbers,  who 
had  fastened  themselves  like  vampires  upon  the 
public  treasury,  and  unlike  the  leach,  did  not  let 
go  their  hold  when  full,  were  still  gorging  them 
selves  by  new  methods  of  plunder.  No  such  rate 
of  taxation  upon  the  same  basis  of  property  valu 
ation  has  ever  occurred  in  the  history  of  the  world. 
A  tithe  of  this  rate  of  taxation  lost  to  the  crown 
of  England  her  thirteen  American  colonies.  All 
the  county  auditors,  county  treasurers,  trial 


THE    BEOKEN    SWORD.  43 

justices  in  the  courts  of  record  were  utterly  in 
competent  and  utterly  corrupt.  The  juries  in  the 
courts  of  records  were  mostly  negroes,  summoned 
by  negro  sheriffs,  and  the  pardoning  power  in  the 
hands  of  venal  and  truculent  governors  was  shame 
fully  prostituted.  The  most  unblushing  villainies 
and  crimes  were  either  officially  condoned  or  re 
mitted  and  forgiven. 

The  people  were  taxed  by  millions;  millions  were 
paid  out,  and  no  vouchers  were  ever  taken  or  found. 

In  the  face  of  such  universal  misrule,  speculation 
and  tyranny,  there  could  be  no  greater  misrepre 
sentation  of  the  truth  than  is  contained  in  the  oft- 
reiterated  accusation,  that  the  white  people  of  the 
South  are  fierce,  aggressive  an<3  defiant  in  their 
conduct  towards  those  placed  in  authority  over 
them  by  the  Federal  or  State  law.  Aggressive  and 
defiant!  How  vain  and  worse  than  useless  would 
such  conduct  be  against  the  overwhelming  power 
of  the  tyrants  who  oppose  them.  It  is  against  all 
the  instincts  of  life,  when  despair  has  taken  the 
place  of  hope. 

Defiant?  Does  the  poor  unresisting  hare,  when 
trembling  with  frenzied  apprehension  under  the 
feet  and  wide  open  jaws  of  the  hound  exhibit  much 
defiance,  or  much  hope  of  victory  in  a  death  strug 
gle  with  its  cruel  and  merciless  foe?  It  makes  no 
resistance — no  motion  or  attitude  of  battle  for  life 
except  that  involuntary  and  spasmodic  action  pro 
duced  by  pain  and  suffering. 


44 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  '  45 


CHAPTER  IV. 


TYPES    AND    SHADOWS. 

The  developement  of  the  negro,  educationally, 
has  been  embarrassed  by  natural  causes  that  he 
has  been  unable  to  overcome.  In  a  great  variety 
of  instances  he  has  failed  to  be  actuated  by  an  in 
tellectual  or  benevolent  reason.  In  the  evolution 
of  the  negro  from  a  savage  to  a  slave,  from  a  slave 
to  a  freedman,  and  from  a  freedman  to  a  citizen, 
only  in  exceptional  instances  has  he  been  able  to 
originate  a  theory  or  experiment  that  has  been 
profitable  to  himself  or  others.  No  high  stale  of 
civilization  has  ever  originated  from  them.  History 
teaches  us  that  a  nation  may  pass  through  an  as 
cending  or  descending  career.  It  may,  by  long- 
continued  discipline,  exhibit  a  general,,  mental  ad 
vance;  or  it  may  go  through  other  demoralizing 
processes,  until  it  descends  to  the  very  bottom  of 
animal  existence. 

Man  is  distributed  throughout  the  earth  in  vari 
ous  conditions:  in  temperate  zones  he  presents  the 
civilization  of  Europe  and  America;  in  torrid  zones 
the  ignorance  and  nakedness  of  the  African.  It 
was  out  of  the  stewpan  of  the  equator  that  the 
negro  was  fished — with  all  the  features  and  instincts 
of  a  barbarism,  from  which  he  is  slowly  emerging — 
by  cruel  and  irresponsible  traders.  The  religious 
ideals  of  the  negro  are  vague  and  indeterminate. 
They  are  intensely  superstitious,  and  believe,  as 
their  ancestors  before  them,  in  sorcery  and  witch 
craft.  Although  their  powers  of  origination  are 
inefficient,  they  readily  imitate  the  manners,  cus 
toms  and  idiosyncracies  of  their  masters,  and  fre- 


46  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

quently  exhibit  a  superficial  polish.  They  are  emo 
tional  rather  than  practical  in  their  religion.  They 
are  not  naturally  revengeful  or  vindictive,  and 
they  have  shown  a  sentiment  of  gratitude  that 
greatly  endeared  them  to  their  owners.  When  war 
was  flagrant,  and  they  felt  that  it  was  waged  for 
their  emancipation — that  the  institution  of  slavery 
was  menaced  by  Federal  arms,  in  unnumbered  in 
stances  they  held  in  sacred  trust  millions  of  dollars 
worth  of  property  and  the  lives  of  thousands  of 
defenseless  human  beings,  who  held  over  them, 
without  challenge,  the  rod  of  domestic  government. 

Under  all  exasperating  causes  up  to  and  during 
the  war,  hundreds  of  slaves  remained  loyal  to  the 
interests  and  authority  of  their  masters. 

Conditions,  however,  highly  inflammatory,  de 
veloped  passions  that  made  them  brutish,  dishon 
est  and  cruel.  Their  emotional  religion  and  their 
prejudices  acted  concurrently.  The  carpet-bagger 
found  these  unlighted  fagots  distributed  every 
where  throughout  the  South;  he  had  only  to  en 
tice  them  by  delusive  promises;  he  had  only  to  say 
to  them,  "Will  you  be  slaves,  or  freedmen?" — to 
put  into  their  hands  a  new  commission,  and  into 
their  hearts  a  new  faith,  differentiated  from  the 
old  in  order  to  kindle  the  fires  of  hate  and  revenge. 

The  Freedman's  Bureau  in  the  South  was  the 
nineteenth  century  Apocalypse — a  revelation  truly 
to  the  poor  negroes,  who  had  devoutly  longed  for 
its  coming.  The  event,  they  thought,  would  be 
distinguished  by  their  sudden  enrichment;  its  huge 
commissariat  would  leak  from  every  pore  with  the 
oil  of  fatness;  officials,  patient  and  sympathetic, 
would  stand  at  its  portals  to  distribute  pensions 
and  subsistence,  and  the  star-spangled  banner  wav 
ing  from  the  masthead  would  bow  its  welcome  to 
all  who  came.  Something  for  nothing  was  their 
great  law  of  reciprocity.  Four  million  slaves  fas. 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  47 

tened  themselves  like  barnacles  upon  this  odious 
institution,  an  extremely  partisan  agency,  deadly 
and  inimical — hostile  to  the  peace  of  the  South 
and  the  interests  of  her  people.  These  slaves,  mad 
dened  by  their  misery,  looked  back  upon  the  ruin 
ed  plantations,  and  laughed  when  they  felt  that 
the  whirlwind  of  retribution  had  swept  over  the 
land. 

Aleck,  a  former  slave  of  Colonel  Seymour,  but 
whose  rebellion  to  the  slightest  authority  had  lat 
terly  been  shown  by  expressions  cruel  and  insult 
ing,  and  who  affected  a  social  equality  with  the 
carpet  baggers,  halloed  over  the  picket  fence  in  the 
small  hours  of  the  night,  to  Johua,  who  was  now 
eighty  years  of  age: 

''Hay,  dar.  yu  franksized  woter !  hez  yu  heerd 
de  news,  ur  is  yn  pine  plank  ceasded?  Hay,  dar, 
•loshaway!  De  bero  man  is  dun  und  riv  wid  de 
munny,  und  he  lows  dat  he  is  erg  wine  ter  penshun 
off  de  ole  isshu  niggers  fust." 

"Aye,  aye!"  exclaimed  Joshua,  almost  mechan 
ically,  as  he  aroused  himself  with  an  effort,  and 
rubbed  the  sleep  out  of  his  dimmed  eyes,  "Don't 
you  heer  dat,  Planner?"  he  asked  his  old  wife. 
"Ergwine  to  penshun  off  de  ole  isshu  niggers  fust! 
Grate  Jarryko!  Who  dat  er  woicin'  dat  hebbenly 
pocklermashun  outen  dar  in  de  shank  o'  de  night  ? 
Haint  dat  yu,  brudder  Wiggins?" 

"Yaw,"  Aleck  replied,  "dis  is  me,  sho.  Debero 
man  hez  dun  und  sont  me  to  norate  dis  pocklerma 
shun  to  you  und  Ned." 

"Grate  Jarryko!"  exclaimed  Joshua,  again  exci 
tedly.  "Hanner,"  he  continued,  "efyu  ever  seed  a 
cricket  hop  spry  'pon  de  hath,  jess  watch  dis  heer 
ole  isshu  jump  inter  his  gyarments." 

As  the  negro  was  groping  about  in  the  dark  for 
his  ragged  clothes  he  said  half  parenthetically, 
"Dat  dare  voice  fetches  to  my  membrunce  de  scrip- 


48  THE    BROKEN    SWOKD. 

tur  agen,  whay  hit  says  "Fling  yo  bred  into  de 
warter  und  hit  is  erg  wine  to  cum  out  a  ho  cake." 
Yu  is  er  shoutin',  sliding-baccurd  mefodis  Hanner 
und  don't  pin  yo  fafe  to  providence  but  to  grace, 
und  grace  is  ergwine  to  keep  you  perpendikkler  in 
Filadelfy  meeting-house,  but  hit  haint  ergwine  to 
fetch  no  horg  meat  nur  taters  nudder,  dis  side  of 
dc  crick.  Hit  wur  providence  dat  fotched  dat  bero 
man  into  de  souf-land  wid  de  munny  to  de  ole  lams 
of  de  flock.  Don't  yu  see?" 

"I  sez  ole  lams,"  snapped  Hannah;-  "ef  day  wuz 
de  onliest  wuns  gwine  to  be  penshunned  off,  yu'd 
be  stark  nekked  aser  buzzard,  kase  yu  is  dun  un 
backslewed  wusser  dan  a  scaly  horg." 

"Grate  Jarryko!"  ejaculated  Joshua,  "How's  a 
mishunnary  ergwine  to  back  slew,"  tell  me  dat? 
Kase  you  jined  Filadelfy  church,  you  haint 
got  all  de  liggion  in  de  world.  Dare's  Zion 
und  dare's  Massedony  und  dare's  de  baptizin  crick 
und  den  dares  fafe  und  providence."  Don't  you 
see  Hannah?  I'm  ergwine  to  ax  yu  enudder  pint 
rite  dare,"  continued  Joshua.  "Who  dat  way 
Iback  yander  in  the  dissart,  dat  de  good  Lord  fed 
wid  ravens,  when  de  rashuns  gin  out?  Pend  upon  it, 
dat  woice  out  yander  imitates  de  woice  of  the  prof- 
lit  Heckerlijer,  dat  flung  his  leg  outen  jint,  er  tus- 
selling  wid  de  harkangel." 

"Twant  Heckerlijer"  answered  Hannah  sharply, 
as  she  threw  a  splinter  of  light  wood  upon  the  em 
bers.  "Yu'sallus  a  mysterf ying  de  scriptures  when 
yu's  er  spashiatin  erbout  dem  proffets;  yu  haint 
never  heerd  no  such  a  passage  as  dat  from  de  sir* 
<?us  rider,  nur  de  slidin  elder  nudder;  ef  dat  cum 
outer  de  scriptur,  hits  by  und  'twixt  de  misshuna- 
ries,  und  day  is  fell  frum  grace  same  as  yu." 

"Now  yu's  acting  scornful  agen  de  misshunarys" 
replied  Joshua  contemptuously,  "Ef  you  ever  gits 
to  hebben,  let  me  pete  dat  ergin;  I  sez,  ef  you  ever 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  49 

gets  to  hebben  yu's  ergwine  to  hole  a  argyment 
wid  de  possel  Joner,  und  den  yu's  ergwine  to  be 
flung  outen  de  gats." 

"Whay  did  yu  get  dat  possell  frum?"  asked 
Hannah  with  irritation.  "Whichenvay  is  de  seb- 
ben  starrs  Joshua?"  She  asked  as  she  changed  the 
subject. 

"Day  is  skew- west  over  yander,"  said  Joshua  as 
he  went  to  the  door  to  look  out  into  the  night; 
"Und  bress  de  Lord"  he  continued,  "peers  lak  day 
is  a  nussing  de  bero  man  und  de  munny  er  stand- 
in'  disserway  purpundikkler,  fo  und  aft*" 

"Is  yu  ergwine  to  de  town  und  hit  pitch  dark?" 
enquired  Hannah.  "How  in  de  name  of  Gord  is 
yu  gwine  to  get  to  de  tuther  eend  of  de  crick, 
und  yu  bline  ez  a  sand  mole  flung  outer  de  ground?" 

"Now  yu's  er  flingin'  a  damper  on  my  ambishun 
ergin.  How's  I  ergwine  to  fetch  de  munny  back 
epseps  I  gits  to  the  tuther  eend?"  asked  Joshua 
crustily.  "Duz  yu  speck  me  to  slew  frum  wun 
eend  to  the  tuther  lak  a  skeeter  hork?  Tell  me 
dat." 

"Lors  a  massy"  he  cried  out  in  pain,  as  he  danced 
around  the  room  on  one  foot,  "fur  de  hebbins  sake 
fling  dat  ole  free-legged  cheer  outer  dis  house  into 
de  mash.  Grate  Jarryko!  de  debble  has  sho  got 
hisself  tangled  up  wid  de  harrydatterments  of  dis 
house.  Yu  mouter  knowed  dat  pi/ened  cussed 
impelment  was  ergwine  to  cum  in  contack  wid  sum 
of  my  jints." 

"Yu  jess  nuss  dat  ole  hoof  of  yourn  in  boff  hands 
lak  dat,"  said  Hannah  provokingly  "twell  I  strikes 
a  lite  und  den  I'm  ergwine  to  clap  fur  yu  to  dance 
er  misshunery  reel." 

"Don't  tanterlize  me  no  mo  Hanner  wid  dem  reels 
und  me  in  all  dis  rack  und  missury!  Grate  Jar 
ryko!  Dis  heer  ole  happy  sack  haint  ergwine  to 


50  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

hole  all  dat  munny,"  observed   Joshua,  after  a  mo 
ment  and  still  groaning  with  pain. 

"Den  you  mout  take  de  bofat,  und  de  bin  chiss, 
und  den  dare's  de  wheel  borrer  und  de  steer  kyart. 
Fetch  all  yu  kin  Joshaway,  fur  me  und  yu  is  er- 
gwine  to  need  hit  every  bit  und  grane.  Dat  ole 
beaver  of  yourn  wid  de  tip  eend  er  rlipperty-flopity 
disserway  und  datterway,  same  ez  a  kyte  in  de  gale 
is  jamby  gin  out,  und  den  dares  de  Ian,  und  de  grate 
house,  und  de  hosses  und  de  kerrige,  und  de  pean- 
ny  forty,  und  de  kalliker  kote,  und  de  snuff,  und — 
und—"' 

•'Don't  liing  no  mo  unds — unds — at  me,"  inter 
rupted  Joshua  in  disgust,  "epsep  yu  aims  fur  me 
to  drap  rite  back  into  de  bed,  whay  I  wur  wen  de 
proklermashun  isshued." 

Hannah  made  no  answer  to  this  effusion  of  tem 
per,  but  going  slyly  to  an  old  chest  in  the  corner, 
she  took  from  it  a  bottle  containing  a  gill  or  more 
of  ardent  spirits  and  giving  it  to  the  old  negro, 
said,  "Anint  dat  ole  jint  wid  dis  good  truck,  Josh- 
away,  hit  will  swage  de  missury." 

Joshua  looked  up  \vith  a  countenance  beaming  like 
the  full  moon  coming  out  of  a  black  cloud,  and  play 
fully  said  to  his  old  wife,  "•Honey  I  kin  swage  de 
missury  mo  better  disser  way;"  drank  it  down  and 
then  exclaimed,  "Bress  God, dat  sarchin  pain  is  dun 
und  gon." 

"Dont  you  forget  honey,"  said  Joshua  again, 
patronizingly  as  he  was  about  stepping  out  of 
the  door  with  his  stick  and  haversack,  "dat  nex 
Saddy,  arter  dis  Sadcly  cummin,  dem  dare  high 
steppers  dats  gwine  to  cum  home  wid  me  dis  arter- 
noon  is  ergwine  to  raise  a  harry  kane  'twixt  dis 
house  und  de  federick  sammyterry  whay  old  Semo 
und  dat  secesh  gubberner  is  ergwine  to  preach  de 
funeral  of  ole  Ginurul  Bellion,  lately  ceasded,  und 
when  me  und  yu  gits  into  de  kerrige,  great  Jarry- 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  51 

ko!  I'm  ergwine  to  hole  clem  rones  disserway,  und 
whern  day  gits  'twixt  de  tlatform  und  ole  glory, 
I'm  ergwine  to  histe  'em  up  on  dare  hine  legs,  jess 
so, see!" 

Old  Hannah  clapped  her  hands  with  joy  and 
laughed  again  and  again"  "Bress  Gord"  she  ex 
claimed  with  excitement;  "yu  is  same  ez  a  yurlirs: 
colt  yoself  Joshaway,  I'm  ergwine  to  give  yu  a 
moufful  of  fodder  and  shet  yu  up  wid  de  steer, 
kase  de  way  yu's  a  histing  up  yo  rare  legs  und  er 
chompin'  de  bit,  yu's  ergwine  to  eat  up  de  gyar- 
den  sass  same  as  de  steer." 

Joshua  looked  scornfully  at  his  wife  and  observed 
with  a  fierce  scowl,  ''Day  haint  no  passifyin'  wun 
of  dese  backslewed  mefodiss  epseps  yu's  er  to  tin 
every  bit  of  de  strane  yoself,  fo  I  gits  back  wid  de 
kerrige  und  de  hosses,"  he  continued  quite  ear 
nestly  "Yu  mout  move  all  de  harry  detanients  out- 
en  de  house,  ready  fur  de  grate  house,  und  yu  mout 
rent  dis  house  to  ole  Semo  pervidin'  he  pays  de 
rent,  und  you  mout  turn  de  munny  over  to  de  dar 
ters  of  de  sammytary  siety." 

"Ugh!  Ugh!  I  heers  yu;  fetch  dem  nales  und  de 
snuff  Joshaway!"  Hannah  halloed  as  Joshua  now 
in  a  good  humor  limped  away  in  the  darkness 
singing  merily; 

"When  I  was  ergwine  down  de  field, 
i'c  biafk(tiia*e  bit  me  uii  dc-  heel; 

Und.  ez  I  riz  to  fire  my  best 

I  run  ergin  a  >  allr r  jacket's  nest. 

"Yaller  jackets  indeed"  echoed  Hannah  as  she 
proudly  tossed  her  aged  head,  '"when  Joshua  letch 
es  dem  rones  und  kerrige.  dare  haint  ergwine  to 
be  no  yaller  jackets  on  me  ur  him  udder." 

The  village  was  thronged  with  the  black  wards 
of  the  government,  when  Joshua  arrived  wearied 
and  hungry.  Allured  by  expectations  that  had 


52  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

been  most  wantonly  excited,  the  negroes  flocked 
into  the  town  with  trunks,  valises,  travelling  bags, 
some  of  them  of  the  most  primitive  description, 
within  which  to  put  their  pensions.  Flattering  ex 
pressions  came  from  truly  loyal  hearts,  when  the 
agent  of  the  freedman's  bureau  ascended  the  court 
house  steps  to  address  the  freedmen.  His  very 
presence  was  like  the  sunlight  over  the  darkened 
land,  but  alas;  he  was  the  man  who  was  to  pass  out 
to  each  and  all  of  the  misguided  negroes  the  cup 
of  disappointment  and  bitterness,  and  they  in  their 
nakedness  and  stupidity  would  drink  its  lees  with 
the  desperate  resoluteness  of  fanatics. 

Joshua  stood  with  his  old  skinny  hands  clasped 
upon  his  bosom,  looking  up  in  an  attitude  of  rev 
erence. 

"Grate  Jarryko!"  he  said  to  himself;  "Ef  dis 
bellion  hadn't  upriz  de  ole  isshu  nigger  mouter 
been  way  back  yander  a  totin'  de  grubbin  hoe  fur 
Jeff  Davis,  de  secesh,  und  de  ole  bull  whup  er  nat- 
ally  cryin  fur  de  po  niggers  meat.  Ef  Hanner 
seed  dis  site,  she'd  jine  de  mishunary's,  kase  she 
mouter  node  dat  providence  had  sont  dat  bero  man 
und  hit  is  mo  better  dan  grace." 

The  old  negro  saw  the  diamonds  glittering  upon 
the  enameled  shirt  bosom  of  the  agent  and  he  said 
again  in  rapture. 

"Day  is  same  ez  de  Starrs  in  dehellyments." 

He  saw  a  huge  chain  dangling  from  his  neck,  and 
he  exclaimed. 

"Grate  Jarryko!  ef  de  ole  ship  of  Zion  wur  to  git 
shipracked  in  Galilee,  yu  mout  grapple  her  wid 
dat  dare  chain  und  hit  mout  hole  twell  de  harrykin 
swaged." 

The  old  negro  was  lost  in  wonder,  and  at  last 
overpowered  by  fatigue,  and  the  press  of  the 
throng,  he  dropped  out  of  line  and  fell  asleep  up 
on  an  empty  crate.  How  long  he  slept  does  not 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  53 

enter  into  the  chronicle.  There  were  mischievous 
boys  then  as  there  are  now,  and  whilst  he  slept 
they  collected  from  old  bureau  drawers  one  hundred 
dollars  of  brand  new  confederate  treasury  notes  of 
the  issue  of  18t>4,  and  placed  them  loosely  in  his  bea 
ver  and  covered  it  over  with  his  red  pocket  handker 
chief.  Upon  awaking,  Joshua  rubbed  his  eyes, 
and  then  his  knees  and  his  elbows;  looked  around 
dnzedly,  and  exclaimed. 

"Consound  my  buttons,  ef  de  bero  man  haint 
dun  und  penshuned  off  de  niggers,  und  gon;  und 
dis  heer  nigger  a  drapped  back  to  sleep,  lak  a  id- 
geot,  wid  nary  cent  of  de  penshun.  Grate  Jar- 
ryko!  I  knows  what  Hanner  is  ergwine  to  say;  she's 
ergwine  to  ax  meerbout  de  hosses,  und  den  she's 
ergwine  to  aggravate  me  wid  providence  dis,  und 
grace  dat,  und  mishunary  heer,  und  meferdis  dare. 
Ef  yu'd  pervided  yoself  wid  sum  of  dat  grace  down 
at  Filadelfy  meetin'  house  Joshaway,  she's  ergwine 
to  say,  you  inouter  fetched  de  rones  und  de  kerrige 
too.  Grate  Jarryko!  hit  peers  lak  provedense  hez 
dun  und  flung  de  fat  in  de  fire  arter  all." 

Taking  up  Ms  old  hat,  the  confederate  money 
went  scurrying  here  and  there;  the  old  negro 
looked  around  him  suspiciously,  and  exclaimed  in 
an  excited  way. 

"Grate  Jarryko!  whicherway  did  all  dis  munny 
cum  from?  hit  wur  provedense  dat  time  und  no 
mistake;  now  yu  sees  Hanner  which  wun  of  dem 
meeting  houses  is  got  de  under  holt;  Yu's  dun  und 
hilt  to  grace,  und  me  runs  wid  fafe,  und  whicher- 
wun  is  got  de  munny?  Tell  me  dat?" 

Whilst  Joshua  was  sleeping,  Hannah  was  busy 
hammering  and  packing  the  scant  furniture  for  its 
removal  to  the  great  house,  and  at  high  noon  every 
thing  was  out  of  doors.  The  squealing  pig  was  fet 
tered  like  a  convict,  and  old  Boatswain,  the  coon 
dog,  was  tied  and  howling  like  a  catamount.  Josh- 


54  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

ua  placed  the  money  into  his  haversack,  with  the 
nails  and  snuff,  looked  up  at  the  setting  sun,  and 
said  to  himself. 

"I  mout  let  Hanner  pick  out  dem  hosses,  und  de 
kerrige,  kase  she  mout  not  like  de  rones." 

The  old  negro  struck  a  bee-line  for  home  with  the 
further  observation. 

"Grate  Jarryko!  ef  hit  warnt  fur  Ganderbilt,  I 
specks  dis  ole  nigger  mout  be  de  richest  man  on 
de  top  side  of  de  yurth." 

He  paused  for  a  moment  and  said. 

"I  dun  und  forgit;  I'm  mo'est  sho  Hanner  is  er- 
gwine  to  ax  fer  sperrets  fur  her  griping  missury." 

And  he  stepped  into  the  nearest  groggery  and 
purchased  a  pint  or  more  with  the  money  an  old 
friend  had  given  him. 

"Now  den  ole  town,  I  bids  yu  farwell  twell  yu 
sees  me  und  Hanner  in  de  kerrige." 

As  Joshua  was  going  on  toward  home  his .  mind 
became  speculative.  Great  schemes  in  a  crude  way 
were  thought  of,  and  he  said  to  himself. 

"Now  dat  de  munny  is  dun  un  riv,  ef  I  ketches 
Hanner  wun  mo  time  wid  a  hoe  in  her  hands,  I'm 
ergwine  to  git  a  vorcement.  She  mout  take  lessons 
on  de  peanny-forty  from  dat  white  gal  in  de  grate 
house  und  play  de  hopperatticks  arternoons  arter 
me  und  her  hez  driv  over  de  plantushun  und  seed 
to  de  craps.  When  I  gits  home  I'm  ergwine  to 
berry  dis  munny  under  de  tater  hill  und  I  haint 
ergwine  to  let  Hanner  spishun  whay  I  keeps  hit, 
kase  she'll  buy  all  de  hosses  in  de  Newnited  States 
und  finely  hit  will  all  be  gone.  I'm  ergwine  to 
fling  de  whup  und  pull  de  ribbuns  myself,  und  ole 
Semo  de  secesh  jess  got  to  git  outen  de  grate 
house.  Lemme  see  how  dese  sperrets  tastes,"  he 
said.  And  he  reached  in  his  ole  haversack,  got  the 
flask  and  put  it  to  his  mouth.  "Gurgle,  gurgle, 
gurgle;  umph,"  he  said,  smacking  his  lips,  "dat  is 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  55 

sho  good  truck.  Is  yu  got  gumpskun  nuff  ter 
count  dis  munny,  specks  it  oversizes  your  judg 
ment,  ole  boss,"  and  lie  began  to  count  upon  his 
fingers,  "five  hundred,  hundred  fousand,  hundred 
million.  Great  king!  what  am  I  gwine  ter  do  wid 
dis  munny;  ef  ole  Mars  Linkun  cud  see  Joshaway 
now,  wid  his  freedom  und  de  grate  house  und  de 
plantashun  und  de  hosses,  he  wud  larf  und  larf 
frum  wun  eend  of  his  mouf  to  the  tother.  You 
see's  now  Mr.  Bellyun  what  yu  is  dun  und  dun  fur 
yosef  crackin  de  whup  ober  de  po  nigger." 

A  distance  of  two  miles  had  been  placed  between 
the  old  negro  and  the  village  and  he  had  two  more 
miles  to  go.  One  mile  ahead  ran  with  a  swift  cur 
rent  the  black  waters  of  Chowattuck,  but  there 
was  a  substantial  foot  log  thrown  across  it,  and  it 
was  ordinarily  safe.  Joshua  had  gone  but  a  little 
farther  when  he  wanted  to  sample  "dem  dar  sper- 
retsagin,"  "Pen  upon  it,I  nattally  feels  datar  truck 
er  oozin  outen  my  toe  nails."  The  "tikler"  was 
turned  up  again,  and  gurgle,  gurgle,  gurgle  sang 
the  fiery  spirits.  The  money  now  had  greatly  mul 
tiplied;  the  trees  upon  the  road-side  were  somer 
saulting,  and  the  road  itself,  like  a  serpent,  was 
twisting  in  and  out  about  his  tangled  legs.  Josh 
ua  stopped  in  sight  of  the  water  with  the  observa 
tion. 

"Hole  on  dar  ole  hoss,  what  is  yu  ergwine  ter  do, 
dis  munny  aint  ergwine  to  tote  yu  ober  dis  crick; 
ole  glory  back  yander  aint  gwine  ter  heer  yu  hol 
low,  what  is  yer  gwine  to  do?" 

He  put  his  hands  upon  his  old  knees,  and  rubbed 
them  down,  brought  his  coat  sleeves  with  a  fierce 
swing  across  his  cavernous  mouth,  fetched  a  grunt 
or  two,  then  planted  his  feet  upon  the  foot-log. 

"Studdy  yosef  ole  hoss,  studdy  yosef,  ef  yu  draps 
inter  dis  heer  crick  und  gits  drounded,  it's  ergwine 
to  bust  up  ebery  scalyhorg  in  der  souf." 


56  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

Three  times  he  tried  to  walk  the  log  and  as  often 
fell  off  before  reaching  the  water. 

"Konsonn  de  crick,"  he  muttered,  "hit  hadn't 
orter  be  heer  no  how,  er  pesterrin  fokses  er  cum 
min  und  er  gwine;  pears  lak  now  de  bellion  is  dun 
und  fell  dere  is  a  dratted  crick  at  ebery  crook  in 
de  rode;  blame  my  hide  ef  I  aint  gwine  ercross  ef 
I  has  ter  crawl  lak  a  santypede;  I  kin  straddle  de 
dratted  fing  un  I  kin  git  ercross  arter  a  fashnn, 
but  what  is  I  gwine  ter  do  wid  de  happysak  und  de 
munny?  I  is  bleeged  ter  use  bof  hands  ter  hold  on 
to  de  dratted  log  when  I  slips  und  slides,  und  I 
kaint  tote  de  happy- sak  in  my  mouf,  kase  I  haint 
got  but  one  ole  snag  in  my  hed,  and  hit  is  in  de 
furder  eend;  consound  it,  whay  it  hadn't  orter  be 
no  how.  I  kin  tie  de  happy-sak  to  de  kote  keerts, 
und  den  ole  hoss,  yu  und  me  kin  land  on  de  tother 
side  of  de  crick  lak  a  kildee.  Ef  I  was  ergwine 
tother  way  dar  wild  be  a  passel  ob  kaarts  cummin 
dis  way;  dey  is  allus  gwine  de  rong  way  at  de  rong 
time."  So  argued  Joshua  as  he  fastened  the  hav 
er-sack  to  the  only  button  on  the  back  of  his  coat. 

"Now  den  ole  buttun,  ef  yu  was  ter  brake  loose, 
un  drap  yu  wud  werk  bigger  strucshun  dan  a  yeth- 
shake,  dat  yu  wud.  Provedense  is  ergwine  to  do 
hits  part  ef  Hanner  is  dun  und  dun  hern." 

Slipping  and  sliding,  the  old  negro  was  approach 
ing  the  other  end  of  the  foot  log;  his  heavily 
weighted  coat  skirts  thumping  against  his  shanks, 
when  he  was  sliding  along  under  an  overhanging 
cypress  bush  about  midway  of  the  deep  channel, 
"kerchunk"  some  heavy  object  dropped  into  the 
water. 

"Grate  Jarryko!"  exclaimed  the  old  negro  alarm 
ed,  "what  a  tremenjous  mockisun  snake  dat  was  a 
drapping  off  dat  dar  bush;  I'm  ergwine  ter  git  er- 
way  frum  dis  crick,  sho  yo  born." 

Slipping  and  sliding  he  linally  got   to   the  end, 


THE   BROKEN    SWORD.  57 

and  with  the  observation  "Peers  lak  I  feels  mity 
lightsum  in  de  hine  parts,"  he  put  his  hand  behind 
him  to  feel  f  r  his  haversack,  and  found  it  gone. 

The  loss  of  the  treasure  for  the  moment  confused 
the  old  negro,  then  he  began  to  cry  and  swear,  un 
til  his  grief  at  last  found  expression  in  the  excla 
mation: 

"Grate  JarrykolDem  passages  o'  scriptur  erbout 
fafe  und  erbont  grace  und  erbout  proverdense  got 
twisted  und  tangled  togedder  into  a  loblolly,  und 
bress  de  Lawd,  dis  heer  happuning  is  de  eend  of 
it  all." 

He  then  looked  back  upon  the  raging  flood,  ut 
terly  forlorn,  and  plaintively  addressed  himself  to 
his  situation: 

"Now,  whot's  Hanner  gwine  ter  do  erbout  dem 
bosses  und  de  kerrige  und  de  grate  house,  und  dey 
kivered  up  in  dat  sloshy  graveyard — drownded  to 
def  in  de  turkle  hole?  Dat  ole  button  dun  und 
broke  loose  und  drapped  in  de  werry  wustest  place 
on  de  top  side  o'  de  yeth.  Now  Hanner  she's  er- 
gwine  ter  say  hit  wuz  de  sperrets.  Well,  den,  how 
did  de  sperrets  git  inter  de  buttun  ?  Bat's  de  pint. 
She  mout  say  ergen  dat  ef  dem  sperrets  hadn't  got 
mixed  up  wid  de  ankle  jints  dat  dis  nigger  mouter 
slewed  ter  disser  eend  und  hilt  on  ter  de  munny. 
Well,  den,  how  cum  de  drotted  crick  in  de  middle 
o'  de  rode?  Dat's  er  nudder  pint.  Dis  heer  missury 
dun  und  cum  erbout  twixt  Hanner  und  de  debbil ; 
dats  de  how.  She  er  drapped  back  yander,  er 
singin', 

'Hold  de  fort,  fer  I'm  er  coming  ' 

und  er  spectin'  de  hosses  und  de  kerrige,  und  bress 
de  Lawd  she  dun  und  flung  de  fat  in  de  flar  her 
own  sef.  How's  I  ergwine  ter  hole  de  fort  wid  de 
ammynishun  in  de  dratted  crick?  I  haint  ergwine 
ter  put  de  blame  on  de  sperrits,  kase  hit  hadn't 


58  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

orter  go  dare.  She  mout  er  node  dat  ole  buttun 
warnt  ergwine  to  tote  dat  strane,  und  dat  hit  wus 
ergwine  ter  brake  loose  und  drap  fust  er  las.  How 
wus  I  er  gwine  ter  git  ter  dis  eend  epseps  I  had 
fafe  in  de  button  ?  Now  she  mout  say  ergin  dat  I 
hed  orter  slewed  across  fust  und  den  slewed  back 
und  fetched  de  munny.  Bress  de  Lawd,  how  wuz 
I  ergwine  ter  know  de  munny  wuz  gwine  to  stay 
at  de  tuther  eend  und  I  at  disser  eend  >  Tell  me 
dat.  Tvvixt  de  scalyhorgs  und  dat  Mefodis  meetin 
house,  dare's  ergwine  ter  cum  a  slycoon  in  dis  Ian' 
yit." 

As  Joshua  approached  his  cabin  he  looked  up 
and  saw  his  old  wife  sitting  in  a  dilapidated  rock 
ing  chair,  surrounded  by  the  scant  furniture,  and 
singing: 

"Tig  grac3  hez  fetched  me  safe  di-t  fur, 

Und  grace  gwine  take  me  home." 

He  stopped  abruptly  and  began  to  groan  and 
mutter. 

"Grate  Jarryko!"  he  exclaimed,  as  he  vigorously 
rubbed  one  foot  against  the  other,  "Ef  yu's  spect- 
in'  dem  rones  to  tote  yu  in  de  kerrige  to  Filadelfy 
meetin'  house,  hits  ergwine  ter  be  by  und  twixt  mo 
better  grace  dan  yu's  got,  ur  me  udder." 

The  old  negro  looked  up  again  over  the  broken 
rim  of  his  beaver,  and  he  began  to  mutter  again, 
"Grate  Jarryko!  Ef  dat  fool  nigger  haint  dun  und 
gone  und  turned  de  house  inside  outtards  !  De 
debbil  hez  slio  broke  loose  in  de  middle  ships  o' 
dis  ole  plantashun,  und  dem  evil  sperrets  is  in  co- 
hoot  wid  won  ernudder." 

At  this  point  Hannah  observed  Joshua  zigzag 
ging  across  the  field  without  horses  or  carriage,  and 
her  wrath  was  exceeding  fierce. 

"Pend  upon  it,"  she  exclaimed,  "dat  ar  ole  nig 
ger  fool  de  werry  eye-balls  outen  yo  hed.  Gwine 
ter  fetch  de  rones  und  de  kerrige!  Grate  king!  Ef 


THE    BROKEN    SWOED.  59 

de  good  Lawd  spares  me  twell  den,  when  de  jedge 
cums  er  roun'  ter  de  kote,  I'm  ergwine  ter  git  me 
er  vorcement.  Mont  ez  well  go  inter  cohootnership 
wid  a  billy  gote,  widont  ary  monfful  o'  fodder  ez 
dat  ole  black  idgeot." 

When  Joshua  came  within  hailing  distance,  Han 
nah  halloed  to  him;  "Whay  hez  yn  been  all  dis 
nite  Joshaway?  Here  I'se  sot  und  sot  ever  sense 
daylite  down,  in  de  jam  of  de  chimney  und  every 
now  und  den  hit  peeerd  lak  I  heerd  dem  rones  er 
plumputy  plump  down  de  rode,  er  cummin  same  ez 
a  sho  nuff  harrykin,  und  bress  Gord  heer  yu  cums 
ergin  wid  de  drunken  reels  lak  er  ole  hoss,  wid  de 
bline  staggers,  mommucked  up  wusser  dan  a  kad- 
nipper;  Look  at  dat  ole  bever  hat,  er  layin'  dare 
pine  plank  lak  a  turkle  trap  sot  bottom  uppards." 

Joshua  heaved  one  or  more  sighs  as  he  blurt 
ed  out  in  a  drowsy  way;  ''Dem  dare  bosses  yu 
heerd  down  de  rode,  er  blickerty  blick,  dun  und 
got  drownded  to  def  in  de  crick  last  nite." 

"Grate  king!"  exclaimed  Hannah  wrathfully; 
"ef  de  good  Lord  spares  me  twell  den,  when  de 
jedge  gits  to  de  kote,  I'm  gwine  to  git  me  a  vorce 
ment." 

"Und  me  too;"  ejaculated  Joshua  as  he  stretch- 
himself  upon  a  plank  for  a  nap. 


60  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 


CHAPTER  V. 


PATRIOTIC    MEN    DELIBERATING. 

At  the  hour  of  3  p.  m.,  in  the  early  autumn  of 
186 — ,  several  representative  gentlemen  met  by  pre 
vious  agreement  in  the  library  of  Colonel  Seymour. 
This  congress  of  Southern  leaders  of  the  old  school, 
after  the  interchange  of  the  usual  courtesies,  re 
solved  themselves  into  "A  Committee  of  the  Whole 
upon  the  state  of  the  Union,"  with  Judge  Bonham 
in  the  chair,  and  was  addressed  at  length  by  Gov 
ernor  Ainsworth.  This  gentleman  had  honored  his 
state  as  one  of  its  Senators  in  the  Federal  Con 
gress;  again  as  Secretary  of  the  Navy,  and  had 
filled  by  successive  elections  the  office  of  Governor 
for  three  terms.  He  had  reached  that  mellow  age 
when  the  intellect  becomes  largely  retrospective. 
The  manner  of  this  distinguished  statesman  was 
singularly  individual.  In  early  life  strongly  in 
clined  to  the  contemplation  of  perplexing  political 
questions,  he  possessed  a  graphic,  nervous  force — 
a  kind  of  untamed  vigor — a  raciness  of  flavor  in 
speech  that  belonged  only  to  the  individual  who 
thought  for  himself.  There  were  few  men  more 
richly  endowed;  his  intellect  was  of  the  highest 
order — clear,  rapid  and  comprehensive — combined 
with  an  extraordinary  facility  of  expressing  and 
illustrating  his  ideas,  both  in  conversation  and  de 
bate.  He  possessed  a  rich  imagination,  a  rare  and 
delicate  taste,  a  gentle  and  sportive  wit,  and  an 
uninterrupted  flow  of  humor,  that  made  him  the 
delight  of  every  circle.  Nor  were  his  moral  qual 
ities  less  deserving  of  respect  and  admiration.  He 
was  generous,  brave,  patriotic  and  independent. 
He  was  the  slave  of  no  ambitious  or  selfish  policy; 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  61 

the  hunter  of  no  factitious  or  delusive  popularity; 
he  spoke  the  language  of  truth,  justice  and  wis 
dom.  A  ; 'throb  of  gratitude  beat  in  the  hearts  of 
the  people,"  and  the  sentiment  of  an  affectionate 
respect  glowed  in  their  bosoms  for  the  "old  man 
eloquent."  His  speeches,  too,  were  essentially 
characteristic,  abounding  in  keen  satire,  humor, 
and  frequently  in  the  most  direct  and  idiomatic 
language.  Given  to  intense  conviction  rather  than 
to  subtle  discernment,  and  devoting  his  unusual 
ability  to  studied  effort,  he  could,  whenever  he 
felt  so  inclined,  "strip  the  mask  from  the  hypo 
crite,  and  the  cowl  from  the  bigot." 

This  was  the  man  toward  whom  the  patriotic 
sentiment  of  the  country  was  directed;  the  man 
who  might,  by  possibility,  lash  the  raging  Helles 
pont  into  submission.  "But  what  avail,"  said  he 
as  he  leaned  heavily  upon  his  staff,  "are  arguments 
and  protests?  Can  we  charm  the  serpent  into  harm- 
lessness  by  the  feeble  chirping  of  the  wren  \  Can 
we  tranquilize  the  country  by  indignant  declama 
tion?"  Then  with  an  effort  he  assumed  a  poise 
still  more  dignified  and  serious,  as  he  continued: 

"Gentlemen,  when  the  seas  are  lashed  into  a 
rage,  no  matter  who  are  the  mad  spirits  of  the 
storm,  they  cannot  say  to  their  tumultuous  waters, 
'thus  far  shalt  thou  go,  and  no  farther,  and  here 
shalt  thy  proud  waves  be  stayed.'  There  are  other 
powers  in  motion  beneath  its  surface,  which  they 
wist  not  of,  and  whose  might  they  can  neither  di 
rect  or  control.  I  have  stood  upon  the  shores  of 
the  mighty  ocean,  and  observed  the  forerunners  of 
the  coming  storm.  I  have  heard  the  moan  of  its 
restless  waters  in  the  caverns  of  the  great  deep,  and 
have  seen  the  upheaving  of  the  billows,  which  rose, 
and  raged  and  tossed  as  foam  from  their  bosoms, 
the  wild  spirits  that  gendered  the  tempest.  I  envy 
not  the  triumph  of  those  who  have  troubled  the 


62  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

waters;  who  have  laid  waste  the  South,  who  have 
beggared  her  proud  people.  I  had  rather  stand 
with  my  countrymen  powerless,  but  brave  and  un 
yielding,  than  to  wield  the  thunderbolts  of  Jove, 
if  I  must  employ  their  power  and  resource  in  wrong 
and  oppression.  When  the  last  spark  of  Roman 
liberty  was  extinguished;  when  no  voice  but  that 
of  Augustus  was  heard,  and  no  power  but  that  of 
Augustus  was  felt,  his  venal  flatterers  vied  with 
each  other  in  deifying  their  god,  and  degrading 
those  firm,  defiant  spirits  who  stood  for  their  coun 
try  and  its  tranquility.  Caesar  had  subjugated  the 
world,  all  but  the  dark  unbending  soul  of  Cato.  In 
a  catastrophe,  such  as  this,  let  that  band  of  patriots 
to  which  it  is  my  pride  to  belong,  share  in  the 
spirit  of  the  last  of  the  Romans;  that  spirit  which 
scorns  to  bow  before  any  earthly  power,  save  that 
of  their  beleaguered  country. 

The  reconstruction  government  has  purposely 
demoralized  the  economic  conditions  which  con 
tributed  to  the  prosperity  of  the  South.  Full  well 
it  knew  that  the  wealth  of  the  people  depended 
upon  their  labor.  There  was  a  time  when  plun 
der  was  the  great  resource  of  the  nations  of  the 
earth.  The  first  kingdom  was  sustained  by  pillage 
and  conquest,  and  great  Babylon,  the  glory  of  the 
Chaldean  empire,  was  adorned  by  the  spoils  of  all 
Asia;  the  Assyrian  was  plundered  by  the  Persian, 
the  Persian  by  the  Macedonian,  an'd  it  at  last  de 
voured  by  the  Roman  power.  The  wolf  which 
nursed  its  founder,  gave  a  hunger  for  prey  insati 
able  to  the  whole  world.  There  was  not  a  temple 
nor  a  shrine  between  the  Euphrates  and  the  salted 
sea  that  was  not  pillaged  by  these  marauders.  The 
tide  of  ages,  century  after  century,  had  rolled  over 
the  last  fragment  of  Roman  power;  the  light  of  sci 
ence  had  broken  upon  the  world,  before  mankind 
seemed  to  realize  that  our  Creator,  dead  aeons  ago 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  63 

had  said:    'By  the  sweat  of  his  brow  man  should  eat 
his  bread  all  the  days  of  his  life.' 

Wealth  is  power,  and  the  wealth  of  a  nation  is 
its  labor,  its  abundant  control  of  all  the  great  agen 
cies  of  nature  employed  in  production.  The  pro 
ducts  of  human  labor,  its  food  and  clothing,  like 
the  fruits  of  the  earth  are  annual,  and  God  in  his 
wisdom  has  adjusted  human  wants  to  their  power 
of  production.  Like  the  bread  from  heaven  the 
dews  of  every  night  produce  the  crops,  and  the  la 
bors  of  every  day  gather  the  harvest.  What,  but 
an  almost  boundless  power  of  consumption  and  re 
production  has  given  to  the  South  its  athletic  vig 
or,  and  yet  the  enfranchisement  of  the  negroes  has 
been  a  fatal  blow  to  every  industrial  interest.  It  has 
left  our  plows  to  rot  in  the  furrow,  and  our  planta 
tions  to  grow  up  in  briers  and  brambles. 

That  liberty,  which  ranks  in  our  organic  law 
next  to  life,  is  subjected  to  the  caprice  of  those 
who  happen  in  the  ever  varying  conditions  of  hu 
man  affairs  to  be  placed  over  us  as  masters.  The 
South  believed  that  the  theory  of  the  government 
derived  its  chiefest  captivation  from  its  regard  to 
the  equal  rights  of  all  its  citizens  and  from  its 
pledge  to  maintain  and  preserve  those  rights.  It 
assumed  to  proclaim  the  happiness  of  the  people 
to  have  been  the  object  of  its  institution,  and  to 
guarantee  to  each  and  to  all  without  limitation  the 
enjoyment  of  life,  liberty,  and  property. 

It  has  been  reserved  for  the  power  of  oppression, 
in  its  active  and  diffused  state,  to  give  effect  to  the 
unhallowed  innovation  upon  the  rights  of  the 
South. 

Reconstruction  is  the  Gethsemane  of  southern 
life.  God's  law  is  higher  than  man's  law.  Man's 
feeble  statutes  cannot  annul  the  immutable  ordi 
nances  of  the  Almighty.  Those  whom  God  has 
put  asunder,  let  no  man  join  together. 


€4  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

Who  could  have  foreseen  that  in  the  first  centu 
ry  of  our  existence  African  freedmen  would  rule 
sovereign  commonwealths,  and  become  the  judges 
of  the  rights  and  property  of  a  race  who  had  ruled 
the  destinies  of  the  world  since  governments — pa 
triarchal, monarchical  or  constitutional — was  known 
to  man  ? 

The  true,  sincere  and  rational  humanitarian  looks 
with  sorrow  upon  the  future  state  of  the  misguided 
negroes;  for  when  this  institutional  age  shall  have 
passed  away,  he  sees  the  exodus  or  extirpation  of 
this  disturbing  element  in  the  social  and  political 
conditions  of  the  more  powerful  sovereign  race. 
The  authors  of  the  infamous  policy  have  written 
their  hie  jacet  against  our  civilization. 

No  where  can  there  be  found  in  the  history  of 
any  country  where  the  civil  and  military  policy 
have  been  so  basely  prostituted,  or  where  the  safe 
guards  of  liberty,  life  and  property  were  ever  en 
trusted  to  freed  slaves — human  chattels;  slaves  who 
never  for  a  moment  have  been  in  a  state  of  pupil 
age.  It  is  an  epoch  that  marks  the  decadence  of 
the  manhood  and  civilization  of  a  great  nation — 
homogeneous,  prosperous,  enlightened  and  happy. 
The  nearest  approximation  to  this  era  of  ruin — of 
social  degradation — was  when  the  slaves  in  Rome 
were  enfranchised  by  order  of  the  emperor,  and 
conditions  there  were  totally  dissimilar.  Whilst 
they  enjoyed  certain  rights  and  prerogatives  of 
manumission,  they  were  still  held  to  duties  of  obe 
dience  and  gratitude.  Whatever  were  the  fruits 
of  their  toil  and  industry,  their  patrons  shared  or 
inherited  the  third  part,  or  even  the  whole  of  their 
acquisitions.  In  the  decline  of  this  great  empire, 
the  proud  mistress  of  the  world,  we  are  told  that 
hereditary  distinctions  were  gradually  abolished, 
and  the  reason  or  instinct  of  Justinian  completed 
the  simple  form  of  an  absolute  monarchy.  In  the 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  65 

eye  of  the  law  all  Romans  were  equal  an<3  all  sub 
jects  were  citizens.  The  inestimable  character  was 
degraded  to  an  obsolete  and  empty  name.  The 
voice  of  a  Roman  could  no  longer  enact  laws  or 
create  the  annual  ministers  of  his  power. 

"It  may  take  many  generations  perhaps,  for  mor 
al  changes  are  slow,  to  put  out  all  our  lights  of 
knowledge  that  are  now  beaming  from  every  cot 
tage  in  the  South;  but  one  after  another  they  will 
be  extinguished,  and  with  them  the  beacon  torch 
of  lilierty.  When  the  white  men  of  the  South 
shall  come  to  see  how  things  are,  and  to  realize  the 
downward  tendency,  physical,  intellectual  man 
hood  will  make  a  throe  to  regain  the  height  it  has 
lost,  and  if  it  fails,  a  storm  will  arise  from  the  ele 
ments  they  are  compounding,  that  will  break  some 
where  and  spend  itself  with  desolating  fury.  They 
cannot  degrade  a  people  who  have  been  enlight 
ened  and  free,  prosperous  and  happy,  without  ig 
niting  a  mass  which  they  can  no  more  control,  than 
they  can  the  central  fires  of  Vesuvius. 

"Up  to  the  commencement  of  hostilities  between 
the  North  and  the  South,  there  were  in  the  South 
millions  of  people  employed  directly  or  indirectly 
in  the  honest  and  wholesome  avocation  of  agricul 
ture,  and  by  its  great  encouraging  system,  sustain 
ed  in  a  condition  of  existence,  both  moral  and 
physical,  equally  as  prosperous  and  independent 
as  any  other  agricultural  people  in  any  other  re 
gion  of  the  earth.  They  were  white  men  who  piece 
by  piece  built  up  the  whole  superstructure,  and 
thereby  reinforced  the  country  with  so  much  labor 
and  skill;  furnished  so  much  mutual  employment 
for  that  skill  and  labor,  aided  as  they  were  by  so 
many  instrumentalities  of  toil  and  agents  of  pro 
duction.  What  a  country  it  was — supplie  I  by  this 
system  from  the  labor  of  our  own  hands  and  work 
shops,  with  all  the  machinery,  fruits  of  the  earth, 
5 


66  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

and  all  the  needful  fabrics  of  human  skill.  This 
great  system  comprehended  every  class  and  every 
source  of  material  wealth.  Under  this  system  our 
people  prospered.  The  white  population  of  the 
South  came  by  descent  from  a  parent  stock,  that 
from  the  foundation  of  society  had  governed  in 
wisdom  and  moderation  the  most  enlightened  coun 
tries  of  the  world;  who  had  written  every  constitu 
tion,  fought  every  battle,  endowed  every  charity, 
established  every  government,  introduced  every 
reform  that  has  given  to  the  world  its  Christian  de 
velopment  and  progress. 

"When  these  extra-hazardous  reconstruction  acts 
were  submitted  to  the  Legislature  af  the  South, 
they  refused  to  "chop  logic"  with  the  Recon 
struction  party.  It  would  have  been  contrary  to 
the  experience  of  mankind,  and  an  exception  to  all 
the  teachings  of  history,  if  in  the  high  excitement 
then  prevailing — the  exasperation  of  the  people — 
the  outrages  threatened  and  inflicted,  the  South 
had  yielded  one  jot  or  tittle  or  swerved  from  its 
honest,  patriotic  convictions.  The  transition  was 
from  a  state  in  which  the  integrity  and  intelligence 
of  the  white  race,  ennobled  by  centuries  of  merito 
rious  service, had  ruled;  to  a  government  by  a  black 
race  that  less  than  five  generations  before  had 
been  hunted  like  wild  beasts  in  the  jungles  of  the 
dark  continent;  who  were  handcuffed  and  decoyed 
into  slave  ships,  and  who  had  been  slaves  until  the 
proclamation  of  President  Lincoln  emancipated 
them  in  the  territory  protected  by  the  TL  S.  Army. 
The  transition  was  to  a  condition  of  things  in  which 
white  men  to  the  number  of  three  hundred  thous 
and  were  disfranchised  and  deprived  of  the  right 
to  vote  and  to  hold  office,  and  the  enfranchise 
ment  of  more  than  a  corresponding  number  of  be 
nighted  negroes  with  the  right  to  vote  and  hold 
office.  The  transition  of  the  slave,  was  too  sudden — 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  67 

too  alarming — too  degrading.  No  people  who  were 
proud  of  their  traditions,  their  institutions,  could 
have  looked  upon  such  a  change  with  compla 
cency;  nor  seen  their  local  government  pass  into 
the  hands  of  their  slaves — irresponsible,  illiterate, 
brutish,  rapacious,  without  being  goaded  into  vio 
lent  resistance. 

"It  has  been  remarked  'Oh  Liberty,  what  crimes 
are  committed  in  thy  name.'  If  the  gift  of  the 
elective  franchise  enabled  the  negro  to  protect  him 
self  in  his  rights  of  person  and  property,  the  de 
nial  of  it  to  the  white  man  took  away  from  him 
that  protection  and  that  right.  They  went  even  to 
lower  depths,  and  by  the  election  and  registration 
laws  basely  surrendered  into  the  hands  of  the  car 
pet-baggers  all  power.  The  judiciary,  the  last 
refuge  of  the  unfortunate  and  oppressed  is  strick 
en  down  and  stripped  of  both  ermine  and  respecta 
bility.  The  ballot  box — the  sanctuary  of  freedom 
— the  ballot  box — the  only  secure  refuge  of  liberty 
— the  ballot  box, the  armory  where  freedom's  weap 
ons  are  wont  to  terrify  tyrants,  is  made  the  char- 
nel  house  in  which  (he  assassinated  liberties  of  a 
defenceless,  prostrated  people  are  buried;  is  made 
the  dice  box  in  which  are  staked  and  played  for  by 
the  freedmen  of  the  South  the  revenues  of  plun 
dered  commonwealths.  What  wonder  in  this  lust 
for  power  men  should  become  strangers  to  the  peo 
ple  they  govern, outlaws  to  honesty  and  patriotism. 

They  know  no  law  but  that  of  force,  and  no  God 
but  Mammon.  They  ply  their  theft  upon  every 
citizen,  enthrall  him  with  taxation,  deny  him 
the  right  to  be  seen  or  heard  or  felt  at  the  ballot 
box  or  before  the  court.  In  the  train  of  these  out 
rages  and  indignities  came  a  liood  of  unwholesome 
oppressive  laws,  creating  new  offices,  increasing  the 
salaries  of  incompetent  and  truculent  officials,  mul 
tiplying  the  cost  and  expenditures  of  government, 


68  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

and  correspondingly  increasing  the  burdens  of  tax 
ation.  Then  came  martial  law,  militia  cam 
paigns,  loyal  leagues,  murders,  arsons,  burglaries, 
rapes,  and  a  reign  of  terror  and  intimidation  to 
make  the  way  for  the  easy  perpetration  of  the  most 
monstrous  and  unparallelled  wrongs, frauds  and  out 
rages  that  ever  cursed  the  earth.  The  South,  like 
a  beautif  ul  captive,  was  turned  over  to  be  deflow 
ered  and  defiled.  She  could  only  cry  in  her  des 
peration — l'I  am  within  your  brutal  power,  and 
gagged  and  pinioned  must  submit." 

"Our  elective  judiciary  has  contributed  immeas 
urably  to  the  vicious,  demoralizing  spirit  of  the  age. 
The  intelligent  and  upright  judge  is  the  representa 
tive  of  the  law  in  its  simplicity,  sufficiency  and 
learning.  He  is  the  living  exponent  of  its  justice. 
Whatever  the  law  is  will  appear  in  him,  and  what 
ever  it  does  will  be  done  through  him.  The  differ 
ent  departments  of  industrial  activity  center  in 
him.  The  plowman  in  the  lield,  the  smith  at  his 
anvil,  the  miner  in  the  earth,  the  operative  in  the 
factory,  the  banker  at  his  desk,  are  all  a  vital  part 
of  his  being.  He  is  the  foremost  agent  of  provi 
dence  in  keeping  up  the  natural  distinction  of  race 
and  position.  His  creed  is  that  men  are  not  to  be 
antagonists,  but  friends.  Differ  they  must  in 
usages  and  institutions,  in  habits  and  pursuits;  but 
in  his  opinion  they  differ,  not  that  they  may  be 
separated,  but  for  a  truer  sympathy  and  a  com- 
pacter  union.  Mountains  and  seas  insulate,  lan 
guage  and  religion  differentiate  men,  but  the  law 
in  its  economical  administration  corrects  these 
things  into  the  elements  of  a  genuine  brotherhood. 
The  fortunes  of  the  world,  so  far  as  they  are  dele 
gated  to  human  care,  are  in  his  hands.  The  peace 
ful  progress  of  society  is  blended  with  his  personal 
integrity.  Commonwealths,  corporations  and  indi 
viduals  vest  their  wealth,  their  reputation,  their 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  6& 

security  in  him,  and  if  any  one  man  more  than  an 
other  is  under  the  most  sacred  of  earthly  obliga 
tions  to  be  an  example  of  the  highest  integrity,  the 
most  exact  justice,  the  noblest  virtue  of  thought, 
word  and  action,  it  is  the  judge  of  our  courts  of 
record.  No  feudal  baron — no  courtly  knight — ever 
had  the  power  that  may  now  be  exercised  by  him. 

"'Our  civilization  pledges  us  to  the  sway  of  moral 
principles;  its  rule  is  imperative,  because  we  have 
assumed  the  title  of  men,  domesticated  our  hearts, 
and  accepted  the  religion  of  Jesus  Christ.  Judi 
cial  life,  by  the  earnestness  with  which  it  has  act 
ed  in  the  past  crisis  of  our  state  and  national  his 
tory,  by  the  patriotic  devotion  and  interpretation 
of  the  constitution  and  the  laws  made  in  pursuance 
thereof,  by  its  conservative  temper  in  resisting 
fanaticism,  vie-1,  corruption  and  fraud  has  shown  it 
self  a  watchful  guardian  of  the  momentous  trusts 
confided  to  its  keeping.  The  honest,  learned  judge 
has  pledged  himself  for  the  faith  of  contracts  and 
treaties;  he  has  jealously  guarded  the  institutions  of 
the  country  and  bravely  upheld  them  as  the  embodi 
ment  of  our  doctrines  and  our  hopes.  The  tradi 
tions,  laws  and  customs  of  the  country  have  been 
committed  to  him,  and  with  the  ever  active  jealousy 
of  encroachment,  he  has  not  disguised  his  fears  of 
centralization  or  oppression.  Hitherto,  irrespect 
ive  of  all  party  relations,  the  judicial  system  was 
slowly  but  surely  working  out  the  great  problems 
of  domestic  prosperity.  Times  have  changed,  how 
ever,  and  we  have  changed  with  them.  Our  present 
elective  judiciary  is  indeed  the  black  vomit  of  re 
construction. 

"It  may  be  seriously  questioned  whether  under 
any  circumstances  the  elective  system  is  adequate 
for  the  purpose  designed.  All  classes,  high  and 
low,  sooner  or  later  come  before  the  tribunal  of 
justice.  Its  judgments  and  decrees  affect  the  hum- 


70  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

blest,  as  well  as  the  most  powerful  individual  and 
control  the  strongest  combinations  of  men.  We 
know  that  it  is  utterly  impossible  to  keep  the 
nomination  and  election  clear  of  mere  political  in 
fluences  and  those  of  the  worst  kind.  It  is  said 
that  revolutions  never  go  backward;  nevertheless 
in  the  teeth  of  the  adage  I  confess  that  I  can  see 
no  better  way  of  selecting  judges  than  the  mode 
pointed  out  by  the  unamended  constitutions  and 
the  laws  and  by  the  general  good  sense  of  mankind. 
I  believe  that  this  method  is  wise  and  conservative, 
in  harmony  with  our  institutions  and  sufficiently 
democratic  to  satisfy  the  people.  All  the  rest  is 
faction,  demagogism  and  cabal.  The  judge  should 
represent  no  interest,  no  party,  only  the  law;  he  is 
an  umpire  between  man  and  man,  between  the  in 
dividual  and  the  body  social. 

"What  is  required  in  the  judge  is  ability,  learn 
ing,  integrity.  In  public  station  it  is  as  necessary 
to  be  thought  honest  as  to  be  so,  and  the  moment 
the  popular  mind  once  takes  in  the  true  position  of 
the  elective  judge,  the  moment  that  it  perceives 
the  magistrate  to  be  possessed  of  neither  true  pow 
er  nor  real  dignity,  and  exposed  perpetually  to 
temptation,  that  moment  the  influence  and  useful 
ness  of  the  judge  will  be  destroyed.  Their  judg 
ments  in  such  cases  will  be  received  without  res 
pect  and  obeyed  only  so  far  as  they  can  be  enforced, 
and  if  the  people  shall  ever  break  down  and  tram 
ple  under  foot  the  defences  of  unpopular  power; 
the  Judiciary  will  be  scouted  from  their  seats,  their 
filthy  and  tattered  ermine  will  be  torn  from  their 
backs,  and  they  will  be  driven  out  into  hopeless 
ignominy  as  the  meanest  of  sycophants,  and  the 
most  truculent  of  demagogues.  .  A  hundred  and 
eighty  years  ago  the  English  parliament,  sick  of 
the  miseries  resulting  from  a  corrupt  judiciary, 
changed  the  tenure  of  the  office,  abolished  their 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  71 

dependence  on  the  sovereign  and  made  the  tenure 
of  their  existence  dependent  on  their  good  beha 
vior  alone.  From  that  time  to  this  the  English 
judiciary  has  risen  in  character  and  influence. 
With  us  the  system  is  elective.  The  judicial  can 
didate,  like  a  fish  monger,  goes  with  his  wares  in 
to  a  market  overt.  He  advertises  his  opinions — 
his  promises,  he  makes  his  pledges,  he  puts  a  pre 
mium  upon  the  ballot,  he  weighs  to  a  nicety  the 
purchasable  value  of  negro  electors.  The  rival 
candidate  does  the  same,  and  hence  the  office  is 
purchasable  at  the  price  of  manhood,  integrity, 
learning  and  capacity.  Thus  the  whole  machinery 
of  the  courts  is  run  with  an  eye  single  to  mak 
ing  political  capital  for  the  radical  party  and  in 
tensifying  their  hatred  toward  the  South. 

"And  now  gentleman,"  the  governor  said  in  con 
clusion,  "our  meeting  here  to-day  will  be  without 
its  influence  upon  a  power  that  can  'kill  and  make 
alive.' 

At  the  conclusion  of  the  speech  of  the  governor, 
it  was  resolved  that  messengers  should  be  sent  to 
the  president  with  full  power  to  enter  into  any 
treaty  or  compact  for  the  maintenance  of  peace 
and  order,  and  that  Governor  Ainsworth  and  Col 
onel  Seymour  shall  be  charged  with  the  execution 
of  the  mission. 


72  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


THE    MILLS    ARE    GRINDING. 

It  was  the  hour  of  high  noon  that  a  gentleman 
and  lady  alighted  from  a  carriage  at  the  foot  of  the 
mansion  of  Colonel  Seymour  without  previous  an 
nouncement.  The  gentleman  was  a  person  of  at 
tractive  presence  and  perhaps  forty-five  years  of 
age.  The  lady  was  not  attractive,  a  little  patron 
izing  in  her  manners,  and  perhaps  thirty-five  years 
of  age.  Their  patois  was  that  of  English  people; 
to  an  artistic  ear,  however,  this  may  have  appeared 
feigned.  Their  manner  in  the  presence  of  the  host 
was  unconstrained;  indeed  they  expressed  them 
selves  with  unusual  freedom.  The  gentleman  gave 
his  name  as  Mr.  Jamieson,  and  the  lady  as  his 
niece.  Miss  Harcourt,  both  of  them  lately  arrived 
from  London.  He  had  interested  himself,  he  said, 
in  scientific  researches  for  the  past  few  years,  and 
was  now  pursuing  an  inquiry  that  he  hoped  would 
be  of  practical  use  to  the  South.  The  "London 
Society,"  whose  agent  he  was,  was  seeking  from 
all  available  sources  the  most  exhaustive  informa 
tion  about  the  negro  in  his  gradations  from  the 
savage  to  the  citizen;  and  he  took  occasion  to  say 
that  his  principals  had  been  greatly  astonished  be 
cause  of  the  alarming  strides  the  negro  had  made 
in  a  country  that,  less  than  a  century  ago,  made 
the  British  power  tremble  in  its  very  strong-holds. 
He  would  be  pleased  to  ask  if  this  sudden  transi 
tion  from  slavery  to  freedom  had  not  reversed  the 
orderly  procedure  of  the  government  in  respect  to 
its  administration  in  the  South.  To  this  inquiry 
Colonel  Seymour  repl  ed,  quite  epigrammatically, 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  73 

''that  the  world  had  no  precedent  for  the  revolu 
tionary  measures  which  were  being  enforced  in  the 
South." 

The  stranger  continuing,  observed  that  he  had 
desired  this  interview  before  exploiting  a  field  un 
tried  and  perhaps  dangerous;  and  he  would  be 
greatly  obliged  if  his  host  would  be  as  frank  and 
communicative  as  possible. 

In  the  course  of  this  interview,  the  arguments 
employed  by  the  stranger  disarmed  the  old  man's 
suspicions,  and  in  a  confidential  way  the  Colonel 
told  Mr.  Jamieson  that  he  would  communicate  his 
knowledge  of  the  matters  as  far  as  he  could,  but 
feared  it  would  not  be  of  much  value,  as  he  was 
under  suspicion  by  the  Federal  authorities;  having 
fought  under  Lee  in  the  many  battles  of  the  South, 
he  was  still  vehemently  protesting  against  the  in 
vasion  of  his  own  country  by  the  carpet  bag  gov 
ernment. 

"You  were,  then,  a  Confederate  soldier;!"  inquir 
ed  the  stranger. 

"Yes,  and  was  paroled  at  Appomattox,"  senten- 
tiously  rejoined  the  veteran. 

"Now,  my  dear  sir,  you  greatly  interest  me;  may 
I  inquire  your  rank  in  the  Confederate  army?" 

"I  was  a  Colonel  of  cavalry,  sir." 

"Were  you  at  Gettysburg,  sir?" 

"Yes,  and  was  wounded  as  we  were  falling  back 
to  the  Potomac." 

Gettysburg!  Ah,  yes!"  the  stranger  observed  re 
flectively;  "this  battle  was  quite  disastrous  to  the 
South,  I  believe,  and  was  claimed  by  the  North  as 
a  great  victory." 

"And  what  upon  the  face  of  the  earth  have  they 
not  claimed?"  excitedly  replied  the  veteran. 

"Ah  yes,  they  are  a  boastful  people,"  said  Mr. 
Jamieson.  "I  doubt  not  they  claimed  victories 


74  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

they  never  won.     You  of  course    are   still  of    the 
opinion  that  the  South  was  right?" 

"No  opinion  about  it.  I  know  she  was  right.  We 
never  resorted  to  hostilities  until  our  institutions 
were  assailed." 

"I  am  sure  your  statement  is  correct,  sir,"  said 
the  Englishman.  "While  our  government,  then  in 
the  control  of  a  radical  ministry,  was  officiously 
unfriendly  to  the  South,  your  government  had  a 
great  army  of  sympathizers  in  England  who  de 
plored  its  downfall;  indeed,  the  president  of  our 
society  was  an  active  sympathizer  with  your  coun 
try,  and  the  bank  in  which  he  was  a  director,  upon 
his  private  account  emitted  bills  of  credit  that 
were  used  by  the  agents  of  the  Confederate  gov 
ernment  in  the  purchase  of  materials  of  war.  I 
presume,  sir,"  continued  the  Englishman,  "you 
yould  have  no  hesitation  in  going  to  war  again  if 
the  same  casus-belli  existed?" 

"No  indeed,  sir." 

"And  you  are  of  opinion  that  it  would  not  be 
treasonable  to  oppose  the  policy  of  the  govern 
ment  in  respect  to  its  acts  of  reconstruction?" 

"If  armed  with  adequate  power,  I  should  not  hes 
itate  in  respect  to  my  duty  in  the  premises,"  re 
plied  the  veteran  with  a  show  of  temper. 

"I  am  very  glad,  sir,  that  you  have  been  entirely 
frank  with  me,"  said  the  stranger,  "and  I  fully 
appreciate  yoiir  feelings.  I  suspect  that  you  do 
not  think  that  a  strongly  centralized  government 
in  any  contingency  is  the  least  oppressive  form  of 
government?" 

"Assuredly  not,  sir.  Nature  has  established  a 
diversity  of  climates,  interests  and  habits  in  the 
extensive  territories  embraced  by  the  Federal  gov 
ernment.  We  cannot  assimilate  these  differences 
by  legislation.  We  cannot  conquer  nature.  Other 
differences  have  been  introduced  by  human  laws 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  75 

and  adventitious  circumstances,  very  difficult,  if 
not  impossible  to  be  adjusted  by  Federal  legisla 
tion,  hence  the  necessity  of  local  legislatures  with 
adequate  powers,  and  a  general  government  with 
its  appropriate  powers." 

"I  presume,  sir,"  said  the  stranger,  "that  you 
cannot  conscientiously  support  the  reconstruction 
measures  of  Congress  and  the  presidents" 

"I  cannot  and  will  not,  sir,"  responded  Colonel 
Seymour  with  emphasis;  ''and  if  you  were  adver- 
tant  to  that  point  of  time  in  the  history  of  our  late 
war  when,  from  sheer  exhaustion,  the  South  laid 
down  its  arms,  you  would  not  ask  the  question. 
There  were  hundreds  of  thousands  of  patriotic 
men  in  the  North,  who,  upon  the  question  of  the 
emancipation  of  the  negro,  concurred  in  its  pro 
priety,  yea,  its  necessity,  but  who  denounced  those 
reactionary  measures  that  were  crystalized  and  en 
forced  with  cruelty  against  the  South.  In  our  judg 
ment  these  measures  were  not  only  extra-hazard 
ous,  but  inherently  oppressive.  It  would  have 
been  a  pernicious  power  in  the  hands  of  an  intelli 
gent,  conservative,  law-abiding  people,  but  most 
deadly  in  the  hands  of  ignorant,  unscrupulous  and 
truculent  officials.  You  must  remember  that  the 
South,  in  a  metaphorical  sense,  was  an  immense 
area  sown  in  grain  ready  to  be  harvested,  with  its 
hedges  trampled  under  foot  and  destroyed,  and  in 
viting  cattle  and  swine  to  enter  and  devour.  The 
herds  came  greedily  through  every  gap,  and  like 
the  wild  beasts  upon  our  western  prairies,  depas 
tured  and  consumed  almost  the  whole." 

"How  wonderfully  recuperative  have  been  the 
energies  of  your  people  sir,"  interrupted  the  stran 
ger. 

"Yes,  but  will  you  allow  me  to  proceed!"  replied 
the  Colonel;  "We  believed  that  when  the  war  end 
ed,  the  people  of  the  South  relying  upon  the 


76  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

pledges  made  by  the  union  generals  in  the  field 
before  the  armies  were  disbanded;  on  the  negotia 
tions  preceding  the  surrender;  on  the  proclamation 
of  President  Lincoln;  and  the  publications  of  the 
press;  as  well  as  upon  the  terms  actually  agreed  on 
between  Grant  and  Lee,  and  Johnson  and  Sherman, 
at  the  time  of  the  capitulation  of  the  Confederate 
armies;  that  when  resistence  to  federal  authority 
ceased,  and  the  supremacy  of  the  constitution  of 
the  United  States  was  acknowledged;  and  especial 
ly  after  the  ordinances  of  secession  were  repealed, 
and  an  amendment  to  the  constitution,  abolishing 
slavery  wherever  it  existed,  was  ratified  by  the 
legislatures  of  the  insurrectionary  states;  that  a 
full  and  complete  restoration  of  the  southern  states 
to  their  former  position  of  equal  states  would  at 
once  take  place;  and  after  the  exhaustion  of  such 
a  war  they  hailed  the  return  of  peace  with  satisfac 
tion;  they  acknowledged  defeat;  accepted  the  sit 
uation,  and  went  to  work  to  rebuild  their  waste 
places  and  to  cultivate  their  crops.  The  men  who 
composed  the  union  armies,  found  on  their  return 
home,  a  healthy,  prosperous,  peaceable  and  well 
organized  society;  while  the  government  with  a 
prodigal  hand  freely  distributed  pay,  pensions, 
and  bounties.  It  was  not  so  in  the  south;  society 
here  was  disorganized;  the  strain  upon  the  people 
to  supply  the  armies  in  the  fields  had  exhausted 
their  resources;  labor  was  absolutely  demoralized; 
the  negroes  being  freed,  in  their  ignorance  and  de 
lusion  were  not  slow  to  understand  their  changed 
condition,  and  became  aggressive,  riotous  and  law 
less.  Under  such  circumstances  it  was  impossible 
to  restore  harmony  in  the  civil  government  with 
out  the  utmost  confusion;  yet  so  earnestly  did  our 
people  struggle  to  return  to  their  allegiance  and 
thus  entitle  them  to  the  protection  which  had  been 
promised,  that  from  the  day  of  the  surrender  of 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  77 

the  Confederate  army,  not  a  gun  has  been  fired;  no 
hostile  hand  has  been  uplifted  against  the  author 
ity  of  the  United  States,  but  before  breathing  time 
even  was  allowed,  a  set  of  harpies,  many  of  whom 
had  shirked  the  dangers  of  the  battle  field,  pounc 
ed  down  upon  our  people  to  ravage,  plun  ler,  and 
destroy.  All  remonstrances,  entreaties,  resistan 
ces  were  stifled  by  the  cry  of  treason  and  disloyal 
ty  and  by  the  hollow  pretence  that  the  plunderers 
were  persecuted  because  of  their  loyalty  to  the 
Union.  A  system  has  grown  up  in  the  South  with 
obstinacy,  whereby  great  protected  monopolies 
are  fostered  at  the  expense  of  its  agricultural  la 
bor;  then  follow  the  series  of  offensive  measures 
known  as  the  reconstruction  acts;  but  one  further 
observation  sir,  and  I  have  done.  The  English  peo 
ple  had  no  just  conception  of  the  oppressions  want 
only  inflicted  upon  the  South;  of  the  insolence  and 
rapacity  of  the  carpet-baggers  and  freedmen  who 
were  made  our  masters." 

There  was  quite  an  interval  before  the  stranger 
replied. 

"Your  address  sir  has  been  a  revelation  indeed; 
it  is  a  lesson  of  great  educational  value  and  I  sin 
cerely  hope  I  may  hear  you  again.  Would  you 
care  to  present  your  views  in  writing?" 

The  Colonel  without  any  suggestion  of  evil  said 
to  the  stranger.  That  possibly  at  some  future  day 
he  might  find  the  leisure  to  do  so. 

"And  now  you  must  allow  me  to  thank  you,  before 
leaving,  for  the  courtesy  you  have  shown.  I  shall 
take  pleasure  in  reporting  this  interview." 

Colonel  Seymour  upon  entering  his  wife's  cham 
ber  remarked  to  her  "I  have  found  a  friend  in 
need;  an  Englishman  who  was  delightfully  enter 
taining  and  who  represents  certain  humanitarian 
interests.  I  expect  to  hear  something  very  flatter- 


78  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

ing  to  the  South  when  he  submits  a  report  to  his 
principal." 

Mrs.  Seymour  who  had  passed  that  period  in 
life,  when  she  could  look  hopefully  upon  anything, 
observed  quite  sadly.  "I  hope  it  is  so,  my  dear  hus 
band;  I  hope  the  future  has  very  much  happiness 
in  store  for  you;  but  I  am  suspicious  of  strangers 
who  seem  to  have  no  other  business  with  you,  than 
to  obtain  your  views  upon  the  unhappy  events  that 
are  girdling  our  home  as  it  were  with  a  zone  of 
fire."  "Ah,"  exclaimed  the  husband,  ''you  do  not 
understand,  perhaps  your  opinion  will  change  in  a 
few  days." 

"I  hope  so"  the  sick  lady  replied  feebly. 

We  permit  events  more  or  less  irritating  to 
follow  the  urbane  Englishman.  The  reader  has 
perhaps  surmised  that  he  was  an  agent  of  the  se 
cret  service  bureau.  This  was  true,  as  Colonel  Sey 
mour  learned  to  his  sorrow,  within  forty  eight 
hours  after  the  man  and  the  lady  dropped  out  of 
the  wide  open  arms  of  the  old  mansion.  But  how 
could  a  southern  gentleman  withhold  knowledge 
when  sought  under  such  a  disguise.  He  spoke  as 
he  felt;  and  if  the  weapons  that  he  used  to  punc 
tuate  his  expressions  were  boomerangs  that  impal 
ed  him  on  its  points,  he  could  not  help  it.  Any 
where,  everywhere,  he  would  have  spoken  his  con 
victions  without  concealment,  without  equivoca 
tion.  Laliin  came  to  Ingleside;  came  to  fore 
close  a  poor  man's  liberty,  without  a  day  of  re 
demption.  The  old  man  saw  the  offensive  carpet 
bagger  approaching  the  mansion  and  met  him  stern 
ly  with  the  interrogatory.  "What  is  your  busi 
ness?" 

"Ah!"  sneeringly  answered  the  carpet-bagger, 
"that  is  a  fine  question  to  ask  a  gentleman.  Do  you 
recognize  that  seal  sir"  he  continued,  handing  the 
old  man  an  official  requisition  bearing  the  broad 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  79 

seal  of  the  department  of  justice  upon  it  "you  will 
perhaps  conclude,  sir,  that  it  will  be  compatible 
with  your  safety  to  return  with  me;  I  promise  you  a 
safe  conduct  to  Washington."" 

"I  will  go  with  you"  replied  the  old  man  with  all 
the  suavity  possible,  ''but  you  will  allow  me  to  pre 
pare  for  the  journey." 

"Certainly  sir,"  saidLanin,  "but  I  must  see  that 
you  do  not  provide  yourself- with  arms." 

"I  do  not  want  my  house  polluted  by  your  pres 
ence,"  cried  the  old  man  in  the  vehemence  of  his 
feelings. 

"Then  you  shall  go  as  you  are,"  gruffly  replied 
the  carpet-bagger. 

Alice  had  but  little  to  say  to  the  man,  knowing 
that  entreaty  or  expostulation  would  be  unavailing, 
and  Clarissa  slunk  away  from  him  as  if  he  were 
the  forerunner  of  the  plague.  When  the  Col 
onel  arrived  in  the  village  he  saw  the  white-haired 
governor  with  his  overcoat  upon  his  arms,  and  his 
valise  and  umbrella  upon  a  chair  beside  him.  He 
knew  intuitively  that  their  missions  were  the  same, 
that  their  destination  was  Washington. 

"What  are  you  doing  here  governor?"  asked 
Colonel  Seymour?" 

The  dejected  man  replied  deliberately,  "I  am  go 
ing  to  Washington  sir.  May  I  ask  your  destina 
tion  as  I  observe  you  are  traveling  too?" 

"You  see  my  guide,  do  you  not,"  answered  the 
Colonel  with  a  frigid  smile. 

"Yes  and  I  am  informed  he  is  mine  also;  so  we 
shall  not  get  lost  on  the  route  shall  we?"  answered 
the  governor  lugubriously.  "I  presume  we  shall 
have  a  suite  of  rooms  at  the  old  capital,"  asked 
the  Colonel  provokingly. 

"Perhaps  so,  if  the  President  doesn't  invite  us 
to  the  executive  mansion.  I  hope  he  will  do  this 
as  I  have  no  bank  account  North,  and  but  little 


80  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

currency  in  my  pocket."  replied  the  Governor  in 
irony.  "By  the  way  Colonel,"'  continued  the  Gov 
ernor,  "did  you  have  an  elegant  gentleman  and  his 
niece  to  call  upon  you  a  few  days  ago?  Quite  an 
interesting  man  was  he  not!!  I  hope  we  shall  have 
a  good  report  from  him  when  he  returns  home." 

"And  were  you  confidential  toward  this  man;1" 
asked  Colonel  Seymour. 

"Why  yes,  quite  so,"  replied  the  Govenor  inno 
cently.  "I  found  him  so  agreeable  and  so  intelli 
gent  withal,  that  I  told  him  all  that  I  knew  and 
I  am  expecting  great  things  when  I  hear  from 
him." 

"Do  you  think  Governor,"  asked  the  Colonel 
quizzically,  "that  the  Englishman  has  given  us  free 
transportation  to  AVashington  to  be  examined  and 
punished  as  suspects?" 

"Why  my  dear  sir"  replied  the  old  Governor, 
"you  alarm  me.  Is  it  possible  we  are  the  dupes  of 
a  government  spy  so  clever  and  intelligent? 

"That  is  my  opinion,  sir,"  replied  the  Colonel. 

"Is  it  possible?  My,  my,  my!"  he  ejaculated, and 
sank  back  in  the  upholstered  seat,  and  after  awhile 
fell  asleep. 

These  were  men  who  had  made  the  wager  of  bat 
tle  for  eleven  proud  commonwealths  and  lost;  men 
coming  now  with  their  patriotism  repudiated,  to  be 
told  that  their  traditions  were  treasonable,  their 
principles  insurrectionary;  to  be  badgered  into 
compliance;  to  be  scourged  into  submission;  men 
who  believed  with  a  living  faith  that  they  had 
given  American  reasons  for  convictions  that  ought 
not  to  be  challenged,  coming  now  heroically  to  re 
ceive  their  doom. 

The  Governor,  on  entering  the  great  judgment 
hall  with  Colonel  Seymour,  was  surprised  to  see  in 
the  person  of  the  chairman  a  highly  honored  col 
league  upon  the  couimitee  of  ways  and  means  in 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  81 

the  congress  of  1858.  The  recognition  was  mutual, 
and  the  distinguished  chairman  descending  from 
the  dais,  demonstratively  grasped  the  old  govern 
or's  hand,  exclaiming,  "My  dear  sir,  what  has 
brought  you  here^"  The  excess  of  joy  experienced 
by  the  Governor  quite  overcame  him,  and  for  a  mo 
ment  he  did  not  answer,  but  he  replied  after  awhile 
as  coherently  as  he  could,  that  he  had  never  been 
informed  of  the  charge  against  him. 

"Ah!"  replied  the  chairman  sympathetically, 
"That  is  indeed  regretable,  but  the  discipline  of 
this  court  does  not  contain  within  itself  the  germ 
of  an  arbitrary  prerogative.  No  man,  however 
fitter  may  be  his  opinions  shall  be  condemned  un 
heard."  The  Englishman,  under  the  alias  of  Mr. 
Jamieson  appeared  as  a  witness  in  the  person  of 
Jonathan  Hawkins. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  go  through  tlie  trial  that  fol 
lowed.  "You  are  at  liberty,"  said  the  chairman, 
at  its  conclusion,  "to  go  wheresoever  you  will.  You 
shall  be  safeguarded  while  you  remain  in  the  city, 
and  we  shall  exert  our  utmost  to  protect  you  and 
your  interests  at  home.  Mr.  Laftin,"  he  contin 
ued,  "you  will  procure  pass-ports  for  these  gentle 
men  whom  you  have  brought  here  without  a  pre 
text  of  reason." 

Our  old  friends,  taking  up  their  hats  and  canes, 
returned  their  grateful  thanks  to  the  honorable 
€ommission,  whose  judicial  fairness  was  so  praise 
worthy;  and  turned  their  faces  homeward;  the 
governor  exclaiming  through  his  clenched  teeth, 
"The  infamous,  villainous  Englishman!" 

"Why,  bless  my  soul,  Governor,"  exclaimed 
the  Colonel  in  a  startled  tone,  "What  an  oppor 
tune  moment  to  have  carried  out  the  wishes  of  our 
meeting!" 

"What  meeting  do  you  refer  to  sir?"  asked  the 
governor  in  surprise. 
6 


82  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

"Why,  my  dear  sir,  had  you  forgotten  that  we 
were  deputized  to  visit  the  authorities  in  Wash 
ington  at  the  meeting  presided  over  by  Judge  Bon- 
ham?" 

"Well,  well,  well !  "  ejaculated  the  Governor, 
"I  verily  believe,  sir,  if  peace  is  not  speedily  re 
stored  to  the  country  that  I  will  become  a  drivel 
ing  idiot." 

The  Colonel  adroitly  changed  the  subject  by  ob 
serving,  "It  has  occurred  to  me  that  if  the  practi 
cal  operation  of  the  reconstruction  acts  was  directly 
in  the  control  of  the  authorities  in  Washington,  we 
should  see  that  they  are  our  friends;  I  am  sure 
that  the  sentiment  of  the  Northern  people  is  in 
favor  of  the  restoration  of  the  South,  and  would 
counteract  the  vicious  primary  mischief  resulting 
from  a  criminal  abuse  of  power — I  mean  that 
power  that  is  centralized  in  the  Southern  States." 

"I  am  looking  for  conservative  measures  myself 
from  the  wise  men  who  are  in  charge  of  the  gov 
ernment,"  replied  the  Governor.  "The  infernal 
spoils  system  in  the  South,  if  not  checkmated, 
will  destroy  the  country.  This  same  spoils  princi 
ple  has  been  the  cause  of  more  wretchedness  and 
guilt,  individual  and  national,  than  any  other  in 
the  history  of  human  suffering.  It  is  the  incen 
tive  alike  to  the  burglar  who  breaks  and  enters 
your  house  at  night  and  the  highwayman  who  way 
lays  your  path  and  takes  your  life;  that,  rising 
from  individuals  to  multitudes,  it  is  the  impelling 
motive  to  all  the  plunderings  and  desolations  of 
military  conquests;  it  forces  the  gates  of  cities; 
plunders  temples  of  religion;  the  great  despoiler 
of  private  rights  and  national  independence.  It 
was  the  spoils  system  that  united  the  barbarians 
of  the  North  and  finally  overthrew  the  vast  fabric 
of  Roman  policy  law  and  civilization;  and  it  is 
this  principle,  worse  than  war,  that  has  shaken 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  83 

to  their  foundation  our  free  and  happy  institu 
tions. 

Perhaps  we  shall  meet  at  the  cemetery  to-mor 
row,  if  there  are  no  English  spies  around,"  sug 
gested  the  Governor. 

"Yes,  yes;  and  adieu  until  then,"  replied  the 
Colonel,  as  they  alighted  from  the  cars. 


84  THE   BROKEN    SWORD. 


"Dare  g^es  joshaway,  now,  wid  Ole  Glory  strowed  er  roun' 
him,  steppia  lak  a  rare-boss  over  de  tater  ridges." 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  85 


CHAPTER   VII. 


A  POLITICIAN  OF  THE  NEW  SCHOOL. 

Uncle  Joshua  was  the  color  guard  in  a  volunteer 
company  of  negroes,  whose  muster  roll,  like  a 
thermometer,  ran  up  into  the  nineties.  As  he  shook 
out  the  folds  of  the  scarlet- veined  banner  of  the 
free  one  morning  in  his  cabin,  he  observed  to  his 
old  wife,  "Hit  peers  lak  dat  dare  wus  ernudder 
wun  o'  dem  possels,  ef  my  membrunce  sarves  me 
rite,  dat  toted  de  flag  fur  Ginrul  Farryo  when  he 
wus  er  heppin  disserway  und  datterway  froo  de 
dessart;  but  I  moest  furgit  dat  gemman's  name. 
Twant  Absurdam,  I'm  moest  sho,  und  hit  twaiit 
Jack  in-de-bed,  nudder.  Duz  yu  reckermember 
dat  possel,  Hanner?  Yu  und  de  locus  preacher  is 
erquainted  wid  all  dem  aintshunts." 

"Umph!"  grunted  Hanna,  "yu's  gwine  fur  back 
fur  sumbody  to  tote  de  flag.  Ef  yu  hez  gin  out  why 
don't  you  fling  hit  over  to  Efrum?  Ur  is  yu  aiming 
ter  immertate  dat  aintshunt?" 

"Grate  Jarryko!"  exclaimed  Joshua,  irritated  by 
such  a  question.  "Duz  yu  see  dat  fodder  foot,  und 
duz  yu  see  dat  shuck  foot?  Well,  den,  when  de 
leftenant  sez  'hep,  hep,  hep,  hep,  hep — fodder  foot, 
shuck  foot!'  I'm  ergwine  ter  fling  dem  footsies  out 
disserway — see?  Und  I'm  ergwine  ter  tote  ole  glory 
fo  und  aft,  jess  so,  twell  I  gits  ter  be  de  ginrul, 
und  den  I'm  ergwine  ter  fling  dem  identikle  foot- 
ses  in  de  saddle,  disserway,  und  uprare  de  rone  on 
his  hine  shanks,  jess  lak  dat." 

"Umph!"  grunted  ole  Hannah,  "To  be  sho  yu's 
jess  rivved  out  o'  de  babboon  show!  Yu's  er  sho 
nuff  limber  Jack— jest  ez  suple  ez  a  yurling  gote, 
ebery  bit  und  grane  !  " 


86  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

"Now,  den,"  continued  Joshua,  without  heeding 
the  ridiculous  interruption,  ''I  wuz  studdin  up  dat 
possel,  when  you  flung  yo  mouf  inter  de  argy- 
ment." 

"Wuz  dat  g^mman  a  Mef  odis  ur  Mishunary?"  in 
quired  Hannah,  provokingly. 

"Grate  Jarryko!  How's  I  ergwine  to  know  dis 
fur  back?  Kin  I  skiver  er  humans  clean  clar  ercross 
de  dissart,  und  retch  back  ter  de  eend  o'  de  yeth, 
wid  dese  wun-eyed  specks?  Ef  •  he  hilt  on  to  grace, 
he  wur  a  shoutin  Mef  odis;  und  ef  he  run  wid  Prov- 
erdense,  he  wur  a  Mishunary;  und  ef  he  hilt  on  ter 
sumfin  wusser,  he  wur  a  harry  tick.  Bat's  ez  fur  ez 
I'm  gwine,  doubt  I  node  fur  sartin.  I'm  moest  sho, 
do,  he  wur  a  Mishunary,  kase  he  didn't  drap  back 
when  he  cum  in  contack  wid  de  water." 

"Grate  king!"  snapped  Hannah,  as  she  kindled 
into  a  passion.  "Wuz  yu  dare?  Yu  talks  lak  dare 
warnt  no  Mefodis  mixed  up  wid  dem  harryticks; 
gwine  on  wid  yer  warter  in  de  bilin  dissart !  Bet 
ter  git  de  Zion  bushup  to  larn  yu  de  scriptur." 

"Oh,  my  sole!"  groaned  Joshua.  "Ef  hit  warnt 
fer  de  Mishunarys  in  dis  Soufland,  dare  mout  be 
a  wusser  war  dan  ole  Jeff  Davis  de  secesh's.  I'm  er 
gwine  ter  ax  yer  wun  pint  mo,  und  den  me  und  Ole 
Glory  is  ergwine  ter  hit  de  grit  fur  de  conwenshun. 
Which  wun  o'  dem  slidin  elders  o'  yourn  hilt  a 
<5onfurence  in  dat  dissart  whey  dare  warnt  no  war 
ter,  und  no  chickens  nudder,  und  whay  de  po  par- 
ished  up  Mishunary  hed  to  furrige  er  roun  fer  dare 
•dinner?  Now  den!" 

There  were  shops  and  bazaars  scattered  here  and 
there  about  the  public  streets  of  the  shire  town 
within  the  recesses  of  which  sat  colored  women 
selling  their  merchandise;  now  and  then  accentua 
ting  some  passing  pageant  by  the  clapping  of  hands 
and  other  noisy  demonstrations.  There  were  dis 
orderly,  ruffianly  negroes,  in  greasy  uniforms, 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  87 

neither  brigaded  or  disciplined,  patrolling  the 
country,  discharging  their  muskets  at  random;  and 
about  the  premises  of  Colonel  Seymour  there 
was  a  squad,  more  or  less  menacing,  marching  and 
counter-marching  in  the  carriage  way  near  the  man 
sion,  and  the  old  man  in  his  desperation  cried  out 
''Oh  that  I  could  gird  the  sword  upon  my  thigh, 
like  the  man  Barak,  and  could  smite  these  devils 
to  the  earth." 

"Mars  Jon,"  interrupted  Clarissa,  "yer  mout  as 
well  let  dese  devilis  niggers  lone;  de  Lord  is  agwine 
to  slam  dem  to  de  yearth  fore  dey  knows  it;  he  is 
aawine  to  vour  dem  up  lak  hoppergrasses;  day  a 
ransakin  all  .ober  creashun  fur  franksized  niggers 
to  wote  de  yaller  ticket  in  de  convenshun;  mout  as 
well  hab  so  many  billy  goats  a  wotin  fur  ole  Abrum 
Laffin,  de  meanest,  low  downest  scalyhorg  in  de 
wurrel.  Yander  goes  ole  Joshaway  now,  wid  ole 
glory  strode  er  rounhim,  steppin  lak  a  rare-hoss 
ober  de  tater  ridges  agwine  to  de  town."  And  she 
pointed  to  a  group  of  four  crossing  the  field  from 
Joshua's  cabin,  marching  under  the  stars  and 
stripes,  that  swung  lifelessly  over  old  Joshua's 
right  shoulder.  We  had  just  as  well  go  with  Josh 
ua  and  witness  the  proceedings.  The  first  observa 
tion  the  old  negro  made  as  he  came  up  was  this, 
"How  much  is  de  boss  agwine  to  gib  fur  wotin  fur 
him  to  go  to  de  legislature" 

"Agwine  to  giv  yer,  yer  axes,"  replied  a  parti 
san  of  Laflin.  "Yer  dun  und  got  freedom,  haint 
yer?  yer  dun  und  jined  de  milintary  cumpny,  haint 
yer?  Yer  is  de  most  selfishes  nigger  dat  I  ebber 
seed.  Is  yer  aimin  to  git  de  whole  kommisary 
flung  in?  What  mo  dos  yer  speck?"  continued  the 
black  partisan.  Freedom  haint  nebber  made  de 
pot  bile  at  my  house  nary  time,  und  it  haint 
nebber  fetched  no  sweetenin  dar,  und  it  haint 
put  no  sperrets  in  de  jimmyjon,  und  it  haint  neb- 


83  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

ber  sot  out  no  taters  imdder,  und  wid  all  dis 
lustration  in  de  land,  it  haint  agwine,too,  nudder. 
Jess  as  well  be  a  naked  snow-bird  wid  nary  wiling 
as  wun  ob  dese  franksized  niggers.  Too  much  free 
dom  in  de  Ian  now,  und  not  nuff  horgs  and  catfish- 
es.  I'se  been  a  wotio  und  a  wotin  eber  since  de 
belyun  fell — a  trapsing  to  de  town  bakkards  und 
furruds,  und  I  haint  nebber  got  nuffin  but  freedom 
yit — not  eben  de  rappins  ob  my  little  finger;  und 
I  has  been  hep,  hep,  hep,  hep,  heppin  in  demilun- 
tary  cumpny  ober  tater  ridges  und  fru  de  brier 
patches  und  de  skeeters,  und  de  cap' in  haint  neb 
ber  said  nary  time,  Joshaway,  I'm  agwine  to  put 
yaller  upperlips  on  yer  jacket,  und  I'm  agwine  ter 
gib  yer  a  sord  wid  a  wheel.  Nary  time  hab  de  boss 
axed  me  how  much  meal  I  had  in  de  gum,  ur  how 
much  taters  I  hab  in  de  hill;  und  I  haint  nebber 
had  but  wun  little  speck  ob  munny  sense  freedom 
cum  in  de  Ian.  und  den  it  wus  Federick  munny.  Ef 
I  dont  git  nuffin  bettern  dat  I  has  got,  und  dat  mity 
quick,  dis  po  nigger  is  agwine  to  drap  outer  de  ranks 
into  de  sametary.  Dis  here  war  has  turned  loose 
a  passel  ob  niggers  all  ober  de  kentry  wid  dere 
freedum  und  muskets,  und  bress  Gord  dere  aint 
nary  turkle  in  de  swamp,  nur  catfish  nudder,  yu 
mout  say;  und  eben  de  sparrers  when  dey  sees  a 
nigger  a  cummin  shakes  his  tail,  und  sais  'ugh, 
ugh;  I'm  agwine  erway  frum  here.'  Ole  mars  Jon 
had  rudder  de  hoppergrasses  wud  kivver  de  hole 
Ian,  und  de  tarypin  bugs  too.  Eber  time  de  boss 
gits  lected  he  ups  and  sezs,  sez  he,  'Josh,  de  nex 
time  I  runs  I'm  agwine  to  make  yer  er  magistreet, 
so  yer  kin  sot  on  white  fokses,  und  bress  de  Lord, 
dat  time  haint  nebber  cum  yit.'  " 

"Shut  dat  big  mouf  ob  yourn,"  sharply  com 
manded  Lafiin's  constituent. 

"I  haint  agwine  to  do  dat,  nudder,"  saucily  re 
plied  the  old  negro.  "Ef  de  boss  don't  gib  me  er 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  89 

dram,  ur  sumfing  when  I  gits  to  town,  I'm  agwine 
to  wofe  fur  tutlier  man.  De  ole  ooman  tole  me  to 
ax  de  boss  fur  a  kaliker  kote;  sed  how  dat  she  wus 
jam  nigh  as  ragged  as  a  skeer-crow.  Hanner  is  a 
gitten  monstrus  tired  ob  freedom,  und  dese  frank- 
sized  niggers — yer  heers  my  racket.  Aye!  aye," 
he  exclaimed  patriotically,  "dars  ole  glory  now 
a  shinin  froo  de  trees,"  and  with  that  the  bandy 
shanked  negro  cut  a  pigeon  wing  in  the  middle  of 
the  road;  and  sure  enough,  the  banner  of  the  free, 
displaying  its  broad  stripes  and  bright  stars  was 
nodding  its  welcome  to  its  African  heroes,  who 
had  worked  out  their  emancipation  with  plough 
shares  and  scythe  blades. 

"I  knows,"  the  negro  continued  in  rapture,, 
"when  I  sees  dat  butifullest  flag  er  wavin  und  see- 
sawin  dat  dere  is  bound  to  be  a  stummic  full  ob 
good  whittles  sumwheres,  but  I's  monstrous  skeert 
hits  agwine  to  gib  out  fore  hit  gits  to  me."  And 
just  now  the  faintest  tintinnabulation  of  an  asth 
matic  brass  band  broke  upon  old  Joshua's  ear  like 
the  sound  of  a  dinner  horn,  on  a  long,  dry  sum 
mer  day.  Joshua  braced  up  for  the  home  stretch 
and  began  to  take  long  slouchy  strides,  as  if  he 
were  on  the  old  parade  ground  again.  Calling  out 
to  his  comrades  "Forrud,  march  to  de  town;  hep, 
hep,  hep,  hep,  hep,  eyes  to  de  front,  charge,  bago- 
nets!"  As  he  approached  the  rallying  ground  of 
the  Laflin  hosts,  a  recruiting  agent  from  Laflin's 
apponent,  took  him  by  the  arm  and  said  patroniz 
ingly,  "Let  me  put  a  bug  in  your  ear,  ole  man." 

Joshua  jerked  away  with  the  startled  cry  "No 
sar,  no  sar,  don't  do  dat  white  man,  kase  I  kaint 
heer  good  no  how,  und  ef  yer  puts  dat  ar  bug  in  my 
yeer,  how  in  de  name  ob  Gord  is  I  ebber  a  wine  to 
git  him  outen  dere  eny  more,  and  hit  mout  be  a 
horned  bug  ur  a  stingin  bug.  I'll  tite  eny  man 
dat  puts  a  bug  in  my  yeer,  dat  I  will;  stan  back. 


90  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

white  man;  dont  cum  nigh  me  wid  nun  ob  dem 
creeturs." 

"You  don't  understand  me,  my  friend"  replied 
the  scalawag,  "our  side  are  home  folks,  bred  and 
born  right  here,  and  we  know  what  we  can  do  for 
our  colored  friends  when  we  get  to  the  legislature, 
and  we  are  going  to  buy  plantations  for  our  men, 
and  we  are  going  to  make  our  old  friends  like  you 
sheriffs." 

"Dats  a  mity  heep  ob  promisin,  white  man,"  re 
plied  the  negro  suspiciously,  "How  menny  shur- 
rufs  is  yer  agwine  to  hab  in  dis  county?" 

"Forty  seven,"  replied  the  Scalawag. 

"How  menny  jail  houses  is  yer  agwine  to  hab," 
asked  the  negro. 

"We  are  going  to  do  away  with  the  jails,"  said 
he. 

"Is?"  exclaimed  Joshua  in  surprise.  "Ugh,  Ugh! 
forty-leven  shurrufs  in  dis  county  und  all  electing 
taxes  at  wun  time,  Grate  Jarryko,  dar  wont  be 
nary  tater,  nur  nary  horg,  imr  nary  ole  settin  hin 
— nur  nary  nigger  in  sebenteen  fousan  miles  ob  dis 
place.  Saks  a  live,  white  man,  dos  yer  aim  to 
massercree  fokes  fo  und  aft?  Whar  wus  yer  when 
dey  fit  de  war  enny  how?" 

"Oh,  I  was  at  home  raising  breadstuff s  for  the 
poor,"  he  answered. 

"Raisin  which  fur  de  po,  boss?"  enquired  Josh 
ua. 

"Breadstuff s,"  he  replied. 

"Und  did  de  po  git  dey  share?"  asked  Joshua. 

"Yes.  indeed,"  the  scalawag  answered. 

"Und  wus  yer  in  de  penny tenshun  when  yer 
raised  dat  truck?"  further  enquired  Joshua. 

"No,  indeed,"  he  said. 

Joshua  gazed  comically  into  the  face  of  the  poli 
tician  as  he  said;  "Lemme  look  at  yu  rite  good  wid 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  91 

boff  eyes,  wid  dese  ole  specks  on,  disserway;  dare. 
Haint  I  seed  yu  afore?" 

"'Perhaps  so;  I  caiit  say""  replied  the  scalawag 
furtively. 

"Ugh!  Ugh!"  exclaimed  Joshua. 

"Haint  I  seed  yu  at  Zion's  meeting  house  wun 
time,  at  de  stracted  meetin?  Dat  time  sister  Cloe 
drapped  back  into  er  concushun  und  yu  wuz  de 
yarb  doctor  dat  fotched  her  too,  und  yu  tuck  yo 
pay  outen  de  munny  dat  wuz  gwine  to  de  orh'ns?" 

"No,  no,  you  are  thinking  of  some  one  else  I  am 
sure." 

"Und  hit  warnt  yu  nudder  dat  drunk  up  de 
sakryment  de  dekons  stode  away  under  de  mussy 
seat?" 

"No,  indeed!  why  do  you  ask  such  a  question?" 

"Kase,"  replied  Joshua  quite  saucily,  "dem  dare 
too  eyes  of  yourn  puts  me  in  membrance  of  dat 
scalyhorg  in  de  scriptur  whay  wuz  drug  outer  de 
kote  house  ded,  him  und  Sofy  Mariah,  too,  kase 
day  made  er  mis  hit  erbout  dat  Ian." 

"Oh  Jerusalem!"  retorted  the  scalawag  "Lets 
get  back  to  the  subject." 

"Jess  so!  Jess  so!"  exclaimed  Joshua,  laughing, 
"yu  sees  yu's  dun  und  kotched,  und  yu  aims  to 
drap  back  in  de  convenshun  agen." 

We  pay  one  dollar  in  gold  and  a  jug  of  whisky 
to  every  Laflin  man  that  votes  with  us.  Do  you 
hear?"  observed  the  scalawag. 

"Now  yer  is  er  a  gettin  down  to  de  pint,"  ex 
claimed  the  negro  smiling.  "Is  yer  man  agwine 
to  gitlected?" 

"Certainly,  certainly,  sir." 

"Dats  all  right,  den,  when  dos  I  git  de  munny 
und  de  sperrits,  fore  I  wotes  ur  arterwurds?"  ask 
ed  Joshua  dubiously. 

"We  don't  pay  in  advance,"  replied  the  scala 
wag. 


92  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

"Don't,  hey?"   exclaimed  Joshua. 

"Well  Laffin,  he  do,  und  I  mout  wote  fore  I  git 
de  pay,  und  yer  man  mout  not  git  lected,  den  my 
wote  wud  be  flung  away,  und  de  munny  und  de 
sperr-ts  too,  dats  de  pint.  Yer  see,  boss,"  Joshua 
continued  argumentatively,  "us  franksized  woters 
is  bleeged  to  make  er  leetle  kalkerlashun  und  den 
ef  we  gits  disappinted  its  kase  de  white  fokses 
obersizes  de  niggers.  Don't  yer  see  how  de  cat  is 
agwine  to  jump,  boss?"  he  whispered  confidential 
ly,  "yer  mout  put  de  spirits  in  de  jimmyjon  now, 
und  I  mout  take  a  drap  ur  too  fore  I  wotes  und  yer 
mout  hold  back  de  munny  twelt  yer  man  is  lected; 
how  dos  dat  do?" 

"All  right,"  announced  the  scalawag.  "You  come 
with  me."  And  old  Joshua  in  his  "hop,  step  and 
go  fetchit"  way  followed  the  politician  until  he 
brought  up  squarely  against  one  of  Laflin's  lieu 
tenants,  who  took  him  savagely  by  the  limp  paper 
collar. 

"Wher's  yer  agwine  lak  a  struttin  turkey  gob 
bler,  wid  dat  white  man,  yer  fool  nigger?  Don't 
yer  know  dat  ar  white  trash  will  put  yer  back  in 
slabery?" 

The  rival  candidates  were  running  for  the  legis 
lature.  On  one  side  of  the  court  house  square 
were  aligned  the  adherents  of  Laflin,  the  carpet- 
bagger;  on  the  other  side  the  adherents  of  Hale  the 
scalawag.  Each  was  haranguing  the  black  sover 
eigns  of  the  South — men  who  in  other  fields  had  toil 
ed  ever  so  hard  for  their  country,  but  whose  hands 
were  unskilled,  and  whose  minds  were  untutored 
in  this  the  grandest  of  human  endeavors — the 
building  up  of  an  immense  superstructure  that 
shall  stand  "four  square  to  all  the  winds  that 
blow." 

Each  candidate  had  his  claquers,  slipping  into 
rough,  horny  hands  the  paper  representative  of 


THE    BKOKEN    SWORD.  93 

manhood,    intellectual,    patriotic  manhood — man 
hood  compromised  by  no  overt  act  of  treason. 

Every  star  and  every  stripe  upon  that  magnifi 
cent  banner  just  overhead  accentuated  the  fact 
that  in  devious  wanderings  over  blood  stained  bat 
tle  fields,  fire  scathed  villages,  homes  and  planta 
tions  it  had  followed  manhood  suffrage  as  faith 
fully  as  it  did  the  tithing  agent  throughout  the 
South.  Suspended  above  the  heads  of  the  free 
men,  across  the  street,  was  this  blood-red  warning 
"No  man  shall  vote  here  who  followed  Lee  and 
Jackson."  Vain  delusion;  as  if  there  could  be 
treason  under  that  flag;  or  traitors  lurking  in  its 
shadows  like  mad  Malays!  Stranger  still,  that 
the  dust  of  Jackson  should  re-animate  hearts  that 
had  been  broken  in  a  catastrophe,  too  terrible  to 
be  uttered  by  patriots.  Strangest  of  all,  that  liv 
ing  heroes  should  gather  at  a  banquet  where  toasts 
were  spoken  in  frantic  curses  of  the  brave  by  fa 
natics!  To  the  right  were  barrels  of  whiskey  on 
tap;  to  the  left  were  huge  piles  of  yellow  tickets 
with  appropriate  devices  upon  them;  and  to  the 
front  waved  over  a  bloodless  conquest  the  "Star 
Spangled  banner,"  just  as  triumphantly  as  it  did 
at  the  head  of  the  charging  battalions  of  Lee  and 
Jackson  in  Mexico,  just  as  proudly  as  when  the 
Southern  cross  yielded  its  sovereignty  upon  the 
ill-starred  field  of  Appomattox.  Crimsoned  to  a 
deeper  blush  to-day  methinks  because  it  is  made 
to  dishonor  Lee  and  Jackson,  who  shall  live  for 
ever  in  the  pantheon  of  history — as  men  worthy  of 
emulation,  as  heroes  whose  fame  is  already  writ 
ten  upon  amaranthine  tablets. 

"Who  sees  them  act  but  envies  every  deed — 
Who  hears  them  groan  and  does  not  wish  to  bleed; 
Great  men  struggling  with  the  storms  of  state, 
And  greatly  fallen  with  a  falling  state." 


94  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

"Welcome,  my  son,  here  lay  him  down,  my  friends, 
Full  in  my  eight,  that  I  may  view  at  leisure 

The  bloody  corse  and  count  those  glorious  wounds. 
How  beautiful  is  death  when  earned  by  virtue.'' 

About  high  noon  Joshua,  with  his  old  beaver 
caved  in  on  both  sides  and  one  skirt  of  his  blue 
coat  torn  away,  was  seen  to  oscillate,  as  it  were, 
betwixt  the  whiskey  barrel  on  the  Laflin  side  and 
the  rum  barrel  on  Hales'  side,  and  doubtless,  so 
far  as  his  vote  was  concerned,  preserving  a  strict 
neutrality,  that  is  to  say,  in  the  plantation  lan 
guage  of  the  old  negro,  "Bress  de  Lawd,  I  was  so 
flushtrated  wid  dat  meextry  o'  rum  und  sperrits 
dat  I  flung  in  six  wotes  fur  de  cyarpet-sacker  und 
er  eben  haf  dozen  fur  de  scaly horg."  The  result 
officially  declared,  made  the  agreement  between 
Joshua  and  Hales'  manager  about  the  payment  of 
money  uarter  yo  man  is  dun  und  lected"  a  nude 
pact. 

Laflin  was  nominated,  and  in  his  address  to  his 
constituents  flattered  himself  that  the  nomination 
came  unsought  and  with  practical  unanimity. 

"Our  enemies,"  said  he,  "shall  feel  our  power, 
and  you  will  be  asked  to  co-operate  in  such  manner 
as  will  place  you  above  them  in  this  government. 
Can  I  depend  on  you?" 

"Dat  yer  kin!"  came  from  a  hundred  throats- 
"Hurrah  for  de  boss  !  He  is  de  ginrul  fur  dis  ken- 
try,  und  he  will  lick  out  de  white  trash!  Yes  sir- 
ee!" 

Such  were  the  exclamations  that  deafened  the 
ear  and  horrified  the  sense.  Joshua  was  too  drunk 
to  be  offensively  partisan.  He  lay  in  the  street 
waving  his  old  beaver  hat  and  hurrahing  the  best 
he  could  for  Laflin,  as  he  held  on  to  "de  jimmy- 
jon,"  and  singing  in  a  drunken,  maudlin  way — 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  95 

Die  jug  lak  a  ribber  is  er  flowin, 
Und  I  don't  keer  how  fast  it  flows  on  hove,  on; 
While  de  korn  in  de  low  groun  is  er  growin, 
Und  dis  mouf  ketch  de  atuff  as  it  runs." 

When  Joshua  got  home  next  morning  the  sun 
was  blazing  like  a  great  ball  of  fire  from  the  mid- 
heavens.  Both  skirts  of  his  old  blue  coqt  were 
gone.  His  old  beaver  was  flopping  and  hung  limp 
and  crownless  over  his  right  eye,  and  his  old  wife 
paused  in  her  work  in  her  garden  to  observe  the 
dilapidated  negro  as  he  approached  his  cabin.  She 
could  hear  him  muttering  to  himself,  "Talk  erbout 
de  niggers  ergwine  ter  de  conwenshun,  und  er  run- 
nin  dis  here  kentry,  und  er  gittin  de  eddykashun 
und  er  bossin  de  white  fokeses,  ef  ennybody  is  er 
mint  ter  gin  me  wan  dollar  fer  my  pribileges,  I'm 
ergwine  ter  sell  out,  und  I  mout  tak  pay  in  Federic 
munny." 

''Ergwine  ter  sell  out,  is  yer!"  exclaimed  Han 
nah  with  a  grunt. 

Joshua  looked  up  startled,  and  pushing  the 
broken  brim  of  his  old  hat  from  his  eyes,  he  saw 
it  was  Hannah  who  had  interrupted  his  soliloquy, 
and  she  continued  in  ridicule,  "Yu  is  too  brash, 
Joshaway;  yer  mout  git  ter  be  presydent,  den 
yer  cud  git  er  cote  wid  two  skurts  to  hit.  Yu 
keep  er  wotin  und  er  wotin,  und  bimeby  yu  i§  er 
gwine  ter  be  wun  ob  dem  Mishunary  possels  wid 
whings,  same  ez  er  blue  herron." 

Joshua  saw  that  his  wife  was  making  him  ridic 
ulous,  and  he  slunk  away  into  the  old  cabin  and 
fell  asleep  upon  the  rickety  bed. 


96  THE    BROKEN    SWORD 


CHAPTER   VIII. 


MEMORIAL  DAY. 

The  patriotic  men  of  the  South  who  had  so  val- 
orously  insisted  upon  their  rights  throughout  the 
deadly  passage  at  arms,  felt  that  now  the  war  was 
over,  that  the  country  should  settle  down  on  the 
great  common  principle  of  the  constitution — the 
principle  that  had  triumphed  in  1780.  They  had 
an  intuitive  abhorrence  to  confiding  extravagant 
power  in  the  hands  of  the  corrupt  and  ignorant. 
They  could  not  understand  how  the  Union  could 
be  preserved  by  the  annexation  of  eleven  conquer 
ed  provinces,  and  asked  themselves  the  question, 
"Will  not  the  light  of  these  eleven  pale  stars  be 
totally  obscured  by  a  central  sun  blighting  and  de 
stroying  every  germ  of  constitutional  liberty?' '  The 
Union,  said  they,  was  safe  in  the  hands  of  President 
Lincoln.  Rome  was  safe  when  Cincinnatus  was 
called  from  the  plow,  but  she  was  torn  asunder  by 
the  wars  of  Scylla  and  Marius,  and  history  is  more 
or  less  a  repetition  of  itself. 

Despite  the  catastrophe  that  overlaid  the  South 
because  of  the  unhappy  issue  of  the  war;  the  grav 
ity  of  which  enemies,  both  domestic  and  foreign, 
have  scandalized  by  calling  it  "rebellion,"  despite 
the  fact  that  disbanded  forces  were  still  prosecu 
ting  their  conquests,  not  against  disciplined  armies 
in  the  field,  but  against  men,  women  and  children, 
in  the  lawful  pursuit  of  peace  and  happiness,  with 
a  vengeance  hourly  reinforced  by  new  resources 
and  fresh  horrors,  and  with  a  terror  that  mastered 
our  fettered  souls;  our  people  felt  that  there  was 
at  least  one  refuge  from  the  blast  of  the  tornado — 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  97 

•still   a   sheltering   rock    to   which  they  could   flee 
from  the  cruel  cloud-burst. 

In  passing  the  eye  rapidly  over  the  outline  of 
the  circumstances  in  which  persecution  originated; 
in  reviewing  the  cause  that  unsettled  the  deep 
foundations  of  social  life,  the  southern  people  felt 
that  there  were  hallowed  spots  of  ground  so  strong 
ly  buttressed  in  the  hearts  of  the  people  that 
the  violence  of  the  storm  could  not  rustle  a  leaf  or 
shake  a  twig;  that  these  consecrated  precincts 
they  could  lawfully  appropriate,  and  as  to  this 
claim,  the  carpet-baggers  with  all  their  hosts  of  mis 
rule  had  the  honor,  magnanimity  and  mercy  to  for 
get,  forgive  and  forbear.  Here  at  least  there  could 
be  no  intrusion,  because  the  baser  passions  were 
fenced  upon  the.  outside;  and  amid  this  sad  conti 
nuity  of  graves  the  heart  would  be  uplifted  in  grat 
itude  to  God,  who  in  his  great  mercy  had  given  to 
the  nineteenth  century  and  to  the  South,  such  undy 
ing  examples  of  patriotism  and  valor.  Here  lie  the 
bones  of  men  who  dared  to  say,  when  the  political 
system  of  the  South  was  strangely  inverted,  that 
it  was  such  a  menace  to  southern  institutions  that 
it  could  net  go  unchallenged;  a  palpaple  violation 
of  the  public  faith.  To  what  other  convulsions  and 
changes  are  we  predestined?  they  asked.  Shall  we 
leave  our  character,  our  civilization,  our  very  being 
to  the  unresisted  assault  and  prepare  such  an  epi 
taph  for  our  tombs?  Shall  we  declare  ourselves 
outlawed  from  the  community  of  nations?  "Nay, 
war  rather  to  the  cost  of  the  last  dollar,  and  slaugh 
ter  of  the  last  man."  Such  was  the  sentiment  of 
the  men  who  sleep  so  peacefully  in  these  graves. 
Such  was  the  sentiment  of  the  men,  women  and 
children,  who  to-day  stand  over  these  graves  to 
honor  the  brave,  and  to  reproduce  a  fresh  page 
in  history,  and  lay  it  reverently  by  in  our  south 
ern  Valhalla. 
7 


98  THE    BROKEN    SWOKD. 

Col.  Seymour  was  the  orator  of  the  day.  "Stone 
wall  Jackson,"  his  old  commander,  the  subject, 
and  his  friends,  Judge  Bonham  and  the  ex-gover 
nor  honored  auditors.  The  old  governor,  white- 
locked  and  furrowed,  in  introducing  the  orator  ob 
served  with  a  proper  decorum.  "For  what  Stonewall 
Jackson  and  his  brave  men  did,  we  have  no  apologies 
to  make  here  or  elsewhere.  I  had  rather  wear 
here,"  said  he,  striking  his  aged  breast,  "a  scar 
from  the  victorious  field  of  Manassas,  than  the  jew 
elled  star  of  St  George,  or  the  Victorian  Cross." 

I  can  reproduce  in  a  fragmentary    way    parts    of 
the   patriotic   address  which  I  herein  give    to    the 
reader,  to  show  that  there  was  "life  in  the  old  land 
yet." 
"My  COMRADES,  LADIES  AND  GENTLEMEN: 

"One  year  ago  to-day,  with  the  reverence  of  a 
pilgrim,  I  stood  by  the  grave  of  Stonewall  Jackson; 
and  I  remembered  that  every  battle  order  he  ever 
wrote,  every  victory  he  ever  won,  was  a  thank  of 
fering  to  the  Christian's  God. 

"I  thought,  too,  of  the  thousand  highways  that 
rayed  out  from  citadels  of  oppression,  barricaded 
with  human  bones.  I  thought  of  the  seas  of  hu 
man  slaughter,  whose  redundant  tides  flowed  on 
and  on  as  libations  upon  the  altars  of  ambition. 

"I  saw  as  it  were  the  faded  crowns  and  the 
crumbling  thrones  of  dead  despots,  who  once  gir 
dled  the  earth  with  a  cincture  of  fire,  and  marked 
its  boundaries  with  the  sword,  writing  again  their 
achievements  where  mankind  might  read  and  won 
der. 

"I  saw  again  the  accusing  throngs  of  pensioned 
widows  from  the  Moselle,  the  Rhine,  the  Danube, 
the  ]STile,  and  wherever  else  the  scarlet  standards 
of  fanaticism  flaunted  their  challenge,  hastening 
to  record  their  anguish,  where  the  tyrants  had  me 
morialized  their  deeds. 


THE    BROKEN    SWOED.  99 

"I  saw  everywhere  the  badges  of  speculative 
knavery,  of  incorrigible  wrong;  Cossacks  all,  who 
knew  no  law  but  force,  and  no  patriotism  but 
greed. 

"I  thought  of  the  Spaniard,  riding  to  the  stir 
rup-leather  in  the  blood  of  babes  in  the  Nethe^- 
lands;  of  the  Hun  and  his  proclamation  'beauty 
and  booty,'  and  I  thought  of  the  angel  of  God's 
mercy  proclaiming  an  armistice;  giving  a  refresh 
ing  peace  to  the  saturated  earth  after  these 
monsters  were  dead,  and  I  bowed  with  a  profound- 
er  reverence  at  this  hallowed  grave  in  the  valley 
of  Virginia. 

"I  thought  then  of  Alcibiades  at  Abydos; 
of  Alexander  at  Issus;  of  Scipio  at  Zama;  of  Han 
nibal  at  Cannae;  of  Pompey  at  Pharsalia;  of 
Cassar  at  the  Rubicon;  of  Napoleon  at  Marengo; 
and  I  thought,  as  Vattel  thought,  that  warriors 
such  as  these  failed  to  prosecute  the  rights  of 
their  countrymen  by  force. 

"I  thought  of  the  keen  blade  of  the  assassin 
that  cut  in  twain  the  heart  of  Alcibiades;  of  the 
dagger  of  Brutus;  of  the  murder  of  Clitus;  of  the 
hemlock;  of  the  suicide's  sword  at  Thrapsus;  of  the 
assassination  at  Miletus;  of  the  first  paragraph  in 
the  will  of  Napoleon;  and  then  I  thought  of  the 
bleeding  eirfh  these  warriors  had- scarified  and 
scourged,  until  they  were  drunken  with  excess  of 
human  slaughter;  and  then  I  looked  back  over  the 
tide  of  centuries  for  a  single  example  of  disinteres 
ted  patriotism,  and  I  bowed  my  head  once  mare  to> 
hear  a  protest  from  principalities  in  th^ir  orphan 
age,  and  commonwealths  in  their  sorrow. 

''  I  thought  again  of  Jackson,  as  he  knelt  in  pray 
er,  when  the  great  guns  were  signaling  the  issue  of 
battle,  as  with  hands  uplifted  to  heaven  he  was  sup 
plicating  his  Father  to  guide  and  guard  his  poor 
country  in  her  sore  hour  of  travail,  and  I  thought  if 


100  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

there  were  a  Pericles  somewhere,  who  from  the  loot 
of  our  American  Acropolis  would  sound  his  fame, 
the  'bloody  chasm'  would  be  bridged  by  a  single 
span. 

"A  little  more  than  three  years  ago,  by  the  vio 
lation  of  a  plain  order,  the  tears  of  a  nation, 
magnanimous  and  patriotic,  rained  down  upon  and 
extinguished  almost  the  last  camp  fire  of  Gen. 
Robert  E.  Lee.  Within  that  short  period  events, 
like  chasing  shadows,  both  clouded  and  glorified 
the  perspective  of  history.  Within  a  like  period 
of  time  this  great]country,by  a  vigorous  discipline, 
has  completely  obliterated  lines  and  boundaries 
that  once  circumscribed  the  ambition  of  men.  A 
trilling  order  methinks  of  Jackson,  but  it  cancel 
led  our  charter  of  freedom,  it  rendered  a  nude  pact 
our  declaration  of  independence.  It  was  only  the 
nod  of  the  head  of  an  unlettered  peasant  at  liougo- 
mont,  but  it  sent  somersaulting  into  the  sunken 
road  of  Ohain  the  steel  clad  cuirassiers  of  Napo 
leon  the  great;  dipped  the  imperial  purple  starred 
with  bees,  into  the  silt  of  the  English  channel,  and 
paragraphed  the  capitulation  of  Paris  with  the 
civil  death  of  the  great  emperor.  Such  are  some 
of  the  pivots  upon  which  great  crises  rotate. 

Forty  eight  years  after  the  Scotch-Greys  pierced 
the  uplifted  visors  of  the  old  guard,  there  glided 
down  the  echoing  corridors  of  time  this  senten 
tious  order;  "Shoot  down  without  halting  the 
man  who  dares  to  cross  the  lines  to-night." 

The  catastrophe  that  rode  as  a  courier  upon  the 
flank  of  this  order,  hacked  the  sword,  unnerved 
the  arm  that  was  carving  out  of  a  heart  of  fire  a 
civilization  whose  altars  and  whose  shrines  were 
relumed  by  the  torch  of  liberty;  but  the  God  of 
battles,  amid  the  carnage,  called  a  halt.  It  was  a 
night  of  exasperation,  of  despair.  Ten  million 
people  watched,  as  watchers  never  watched  before, 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  101 

the  last  flickering  of  a  life  that  laid  down  its  all, 
at  the  altar  of  love  and  duty.  Those  ten  million 
people  kept  their  vigil  like  vestal  virgins,  and  saw, 
alas,  the  frenzied  spirit  of  hate  and  wrath  snuff 
out  the  candle  and  heard  the  groans  of  the  victim 
of  his  own  blunder,  as  he  cried  out  in  his  delirium, 
"Let  us  cross  over  the  river  and  rest  under  the 
shade  of  the  trees." 

There  has  been  now  and  again  an  illustrious  per 
sonage,  who  appears  to  us  to  have  been  mirrored 
upon  the  foreground  of  events  like  some  titanic 
silhouette.  The  irony  of  fate  has  dealt  with  such 
a  man,  as  the  creature  of  an  hour,  holding  him  in 
thrall  in  time  of  peace,  to  become  the  storm  spirit 
in  some  great  crisis.  When  he  dies  the  face  of 
history  is  saddened  and  obscured,  and  a  twilight 
like  that  observed  under  Southern  skies,  falls  up 
on  the  world.  Such  a  person  may  be  fitly  called 
the  courier  of  fate;  or  better  still,  the  tragedian  of 
revolution.  He  cannot  be  weighed  or  measured  by 
the  definitive  j  idgment  of  contemporaries.  When 
he  dies  the  s'ride  of  conquest  is  checked;  sword 
blades  dripping  with  human  blood  are  thrust  back 
into  scabbards.  In  war,  he  is  its  inspiration;  its 
providence. 

I  make  no  allusion  just  now  to  that  splendid  ef 
figy  that  is  yet  discerned  in  the  haze  that  lowers 
over  Vienna,  Berlin  and  Moscow;  that  incompre 
hensible  tutor  of  strategic  science,  who  with  sword 
and  cannon  cut  a  red  swath  through  the  capital 
cities  of  Europe;  and  partitioned  the  world  into 
two  dominions,  as  if  he  were  only  dividing  in 
twain  an  apple.  I  speak  n  t  of  him,  whom  this 
man  that  "embarrassed  God,"  found  a  waif,  and 
made  a  giant,  whose  death  hastened  to  its  decline 
that  splendid  imperialism  that  the  great  Napoleon 
erected  on  the  ruins  of  the  commune. 

The   fall   of   Stonewall   Jackson  at  Chancellors- 


102  ''THE  BKOKEN  SWORD. 

ville  thrust  betwixt  the  Confederacy  and  indepen 
dence  a  pall  so  dense,  that  it  could  not  be  cut 
asunder  with  the  sword. 

I  can  compare  Stonewall  Jackson  with  no  hero, 
living  or  dead.  He  stood  in  the  foreground  an 
unique  personality — a  phenomenon.  With  the 
genius  of  war  he  appeared  almost  supernaturally 
mated.  Whether  his  unparalleled  victories  were  the 
result  of  combinations  essentially  tactical,  of  meth 
ods  logically  conceived,  or  of  an  intuition  that  al 
most  without  arrangement  forced  its  power  upon 
vast  evolutions,  will  perhaps  never  be  known. 

The  plain  profile  of  this  man  reminds  one  of  the 
hard-hitting,  rough-riding  Roundhead.  His  dis 
patches  smacked  of  the  Calvinism  of  Ireton  and 
Cromwell.  "God  blessed  our  arms  at  McDowell  yes 
terday."  Wherever  there  was  a  downpour  of  lead 
en  rain  Jackson  and  the  "Ironsides"  would  have 
been  in  accord.  His  was  the  spirit  that  resolved 
combinations  in  his  favor.  His  masterly  appre 
hension  of  issues  diminished  the  carnage  by  pluck 
ing  the  fruit  before  it  was  fully  ripe.  In  war  as 
elsewhere  he  was  absorbed  by  a  fatalism,  such  as 
Mohammedans  sum  up  when  they  say  "What  is  to 
Tbe,  will  be."  Napoleon,  like  an  astrologer,  be 
lieved  in  a  star;  Jackson,  unlike  an  astrologer,  be 
lieved  in  Him  who  made  the  star  and  lighted  it  in 
the  candelabra  of  night. 

A  few  years  ago  an  American  asked  a  halting, 
mutilated  soldier  of  the  Old  Guard  to  tell  him 
Tiow  Napoleon  died?  "The  great  Emperor  dead!  He 
will  not  die,"  was  the' sententious  answer  from  the 
man  who  had  fought  under  the  shadow  of  his  ea 
gles  at  Wagram  and  Marengo.  It  was  with  some 
thing  of  this  vague,  indefinable  superstition,  of  this 
heroic  belief  in  "Old  Stonewall"  as  their  provi 
dence  that  one  of  the  "Old  Brigade"  would  heark- 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  103 

en  dubiously  to  such  a  challenge,  "Tell  us  how 
Stonewall  Jackson  died?" 

Critics  who  have  judged  with  more  or  less  asper 
ity  have  said  that  his  capacity  as  a  commander 
was  limited  to  the  manoeuvres  of  a  corps.  Strange 
fatuity!  A  score  of  battle  fields  prove  the  opin 
ion  false.  If  such  had  been  the  case,  the  history 
of  Port  Republic,  Harper's  Ferry,  Groveton  and 
Winchester  would  have  been  written  the  other 
way. 

I  saw  this  imperturbable  man  at  Cold  Harbor. 
Again  he  reminded  one  of  the  "predestined"  lead 
er  of  the  Ironsides.  "If  the  enemy  stand  at  sun 
set,  press  them  with  the  bayonet."  All  commands 
issuing  from  him  found  their  climax  in  this  su 
preme  order.  The  hero  of  Toulon  never  caressed 
the  fire  throated  12  pounder  more  ardently  than 
did  Jackson.  He  would  have  swept  every  obstruc 
tion  from  the  field  with  a  single  battery,  or  failing 
in  this  would  have  "pressed"  them  with  the  bayo 
net.  His  camp  fires  are  now  extinguished.  The  old 
army  of  the  Shenandoah  is  an  aggregation  of  phan 
toms.  Winchester,  Port  Royal,  Fredericksburg 
and  Chancellorsville  appear  as  mirage  reminiscen 
ces  rather,  that  steal  unbidden  upon  the  soul  when 
its  depths  are  full  of  darkness  and  shadows. 

"We  walk  today  listlessly  over  the  great, 
rough,  heroic  life  of  Stonewall  Jackson,  but  on 
either  side  of  us  are  monuments  and  memorials  to 
his  renown  ever  brightening  to  a  higher  luster. 

It  is  a  stern  business,  this  going  to  war.  Recon 
ciliation  is  problematical,  more  frequently  impos 
sible.  The  public  pulse  in  1861  was  intensely  ex 
cited.  One  boastingly  said  upon  one  side  that  all 
the  blood  that  would  be  split,  could  be  wiped  up 
with  a  silk  handkerchief.  Another  on  the  other 
side  with  equal  bravado  answered  that  he  would 
live  to  call  the  roll  of  his  slaves  from  the  foot  of 


104  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

Bunker  Hill,  and  thus  there  was  boast  and  badi 
nage  until  the  "Anaconda"  turned  his  many-hued 
scales  to  the  sun  on  the  21  st  of  July,  1861. 

The  scene  from  the  northern  point  of  view  was 
exceedingly  dramatic — a  magnificent  host  all  iix 
tinsel — a  composite  picture  of  carnival  and  war.  A 
flash,  as  of  gunpowder;  a  blazing  up  as  of  dry 
heath;  a  shout  ever  so  frightful,  andjialf  infernal, 
and  the  whole  universe  seemed  wrapt  in  flame  and 
wild  tumult.  vBut  the  fire  has  died  out;  tumultons 
passion  is  allayed;  the  old  South  with  its  moun 
tains  ami  glades,  rivers  and  valleys,  the  stars  above- 
its  sodden  ground  beneath,  is  still  there. 

''Jackson  believed  in  the  southern  cause,  as  if  it 
had  been  a  revelation  from  God.  Cromwell  said, 
'Let  us  obey  God's  will'  while  he  whetted  his 
sword  blade  to  drink  the  slaughter  of  women,  and 
nursing  babes  at  Drogbeda.  Jackson  said,  'Let  us 
obey  God's  will,'  whilst  bringing  to  the  altar  the 
offering  of  universal  emancipation. 

"Jackson  believed  that  the  war  of  invasion  was 
a  heartless  crusade  against  mankind  and  woman 
kind,  and  the  civilization  of  the  South,  and  the 
higher  law  proclamation  was  the  aftermath  of  the 
pernicious  broadcasting  of  seed  sown  by  Horace 
Greely,  Gerritt  Smith,  and  Joshua  R.  Giddings. 
Th,e  old  stubble  required  to  be  ploughed  under, 
said  they;  unhappily  in  seeding  the  ground  they 
scattered  here  and  there  dragons'  teeth  and  forth 
with  there  sprang  up  armed  men. 

"Jackson  believed  that  the  'Grand  army'  in  hol 
iday  attire,  with  flaunting  banners  and  careering 
squadrons,  were  an  aggregation  of  iconoclasts, 
fierce  destroyers  of  images,  creeds,  institutions, 
traditions,  homes,  country.  So  believed  he  when 
the  'Anaconda"  with  panting  sides  drew  back  to- 
strike. 

"Man  to  man,  bayonet  to  bayonet,  cannon  to  can- 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  105 

non,  bosom  to  bosom,  here  was  challenged  the  as 
serted  right  of  coercion,  of  frenzy  against  frenzy> 
patriotism,  anger,  vanity,  hope,  dispair;  each  fa 
cing  and  meeting  the  other  like  dark  clashing  whirl 
winds." 

Hither  sped  Jackson  with  the  swoop  of  the  eagle, 
down  the  valley  from  Gordonsville  to  fresher  car 
nage,  to  a  bloodier  banquet  Hither  he  came  with 
as  high  a  resolve  as  ever  animated  Peter  the  Hermit, 
to  plant  upon  the  sand  dunes  of  Palestine  the  fiery 
cross;  whether  right  or  wrong,  cannot  now  be 
known.  The  formula  by  which  he  may  be  judged 
is  yet  undiscovered. 

Eleven  o'clock,  twelve  o'clock,  and  Jackson 
with  folded  arms,  occupies  the  plateau  near  the 
"Henry  House."  Just  beyond  is  a  dark  confused 
death  wrestle.  Forty  thousand  athletes  against 
eighty  thousand  athletes;  two  hundred  odd  iron 
throats  perpetually  vomiting  an  emetic  of  death. 

Hope  within  him  burns  like  a  freshly  lighted 
fagot.  There  is  a  quiver  in  the  hardened  nerves; 
the  old  sun-scorched  cap  is  in  his  hand;  the  li^.s 
are  slightly  parted;  the  order  given,  and  the  'old 
Stonewall  Brigade'  is  hurled  like  an  immense  pro 
jectile  upon  ranks  of  human  flesh.  There  is  a  halt, 
a  recoil;  cannon  spit  out  their  lire,  their 'hail,  their 
death  upon  bosoms  bared  to  the  shock.  'There 
stands  Jackson  like  a  Stonewall.'  Under  that 
name  he  was  baptized  with  blood  at  Manassas. 
Everywhere  that  faded  coat  and  tarnished  stars 
were  the  oriflame  of  battle  and  the  old  brigade  fol 
lowed  them  as  if  they  had  been  the  white  plume 
of  Navarre. 

This  incomparable  leader  never  failed  in  a  sin 
gle  battle  from  the  day  when  with  2800  men  at 
Kernstown  he  held  in  check  20,000  men  and  cov 
ered  the  retreat  of  the  army  from  Centreville  to 
Manassas,  where  he  cut  their  communications  and 


106  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

decoyed  their  columns  into  the  iron  jaws  of  Long- 
streets  reserves.  Such  achievements  were  not  ac 
cidental.  No  manoeuvre  could  mislead  the  clear 
judgment  that  presided  serenely  in  that  soul  of 
fire.  It  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  the  conqueror  of 
Port  Republic  was  an  overmatch  in  strategy  and 
technique  of  war  for  his  opponents. 

He's  in  the  saddle,  now  fall  in- 
Steady!  the  whole  brigade! 

Hill's  at  the  ford  cut  off;  he'll  win 
His  way  out  with  ball  and  blade 

What  matter  if  our  shoes  are  worn — 
What  matter  if  our  feet  are  torn— 
The  foe  had  better  ne'er  been  born 
That  getsin  Stonewall's  way." 

There  were  other  attractions  there,  too;  flower 
girls  had  brought  hither,  not  the  funereal  cypress 
and  willow,  but  bright  and  beautiful  carnations 
and  violets,  and  streaming  about  the  heads  of  the 
throngs  were  battle  flags,  torn  and  tattered — almost 
shredded  by  shot  and  shell — cross-barred  with 
blue,  with  pale  white  stars  like  enameled  lilies 
peeping  out  of  the  azure  ground.  Lifeless  eyes  and 
voiceless  lips  now,  had  cheered  these  flags  with  the 
same  joy  that  once  greeted  the  eagles  of  Napoleon. 
Withered  skeleton  hands  now,  had  borne  them  at 
the  head  of  charging  squadrons  and  battalions, 
the  guidons  of  victorious  armies — the  guerdon  of 
a  nation's  trust  and  faith.  If  out  of  the  cold,  dead 
white  stars  could  come  again  the  old  gleam  of  light 
as  it  lighted  up  the  line  of  direction  over  the 
mountain  passes  of  Virginia  and  the  valley  of  the' 
Shenandoah,  what  a  halo  of  glory  would  encircle 
Winchester  and  Gordonsville  and  Chantilly  !  how 
dramatic  the  narrative;  how  truthful  the  history; 
how  inspiring  the  reminiscence;  how  fully  and 
completely  vindicated  the  Old  South — the  lost 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  107 

cause  !  But  there  is  no  light  in  the  stars,  and  the 
broad  bands  of  blue  upon  the  blood-red  field  are 
disfiguring  scars  upon  the  face  of  an  incident  long 
since  closed,  and  closed  forever,  full  of  tragedy 
and  patriotism." 

The  old  Governor  was  exceedingly  compliment 
ary  towards  his  old  friend,  Colonel  Seymour,  "for 
his  patriotic  address,"  and  very  cordially  invited 
him  to  visit  him  at  his  home. 

Alice  had  formed  new  acquaintances,  and  Claris 
sa  too  had  honored  this  most  interesting  occasion 
with  her  presence.  She  had  carried  a  basketful  of 
flowers  that  had  been  carefully  plucked  and  as 
sorted  by  her  young  mistress,  and  with  very  ten 
der  hands  Alice  had  placed  them  in  a  stone  urn 
at  the  foot  of  a  grave  that  seemed  to  have  been 
more  profusely  decorated  than  the  others.  Indeed, 
it  was  the  grave  of  the  soldier  boy  who  had  been 
the  first  to  fall  in  the  terrible  holocaust  of  war. 

''Miss  Alice,"  Clarissa  asked  quite  feelingly, 
"Haint  yu  dun  und  fetched  back  to  yo  membrunce 
dis  here  po  sojer  boy  dat  font  in  de  battle  of  Ma- 
nassy,  und  was  brung  back  home  to  pine  away  und 
die  \  Me  und  yu  seed  him  arter  he  got  home,  und 
hit  made  my  flesh  creep  und  crawl  lak  katterpil- 
lers  when  I  seed  how  de  yankeys  had  mommucked 
up  dat  po  chile.  Dare  wus  wun  arm  all  twisted 
kattykornered  twell  you  couldn't  tell  pine-plank 
whedder  it  growed  wid  de  fingers  pinted  disserway 
or  datterway,  und  den  dare  wus  er  hole  in  de  buz- 
zum  dat  yu  cud  farely  see  de  daylight  on  de  tother 
side.  Grate  king  !  De  yankeys  motiter  shot  dat  po 
chile  wid  a  steer  kyart;  he  wus  de  wustest  lookin' 
humans  I  eber  seed  in  my  born  days,  und  he  wus 
de  onliest  chile  of  his  po  mammy.  Dare's  her 
grabe  too.  Dare  day  lay  side  by  side,  und  de  Lord 
in  hebben  only  knows  what  day's  dun  und  sed 
erbout  dis  here  war  up  yander.  I'm  ergwine  ter 


108  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

strow  dese  lillies  o'  de  walley  on  boff  on  em.  Po 
fings,  i  hopes  und  prays  day  has  dim  und  gon  froo 
de  purly  gates  whey  dare  aint  no  war,  nur  tribula 
tion  of  sperrets  nudder."  And  the  old  negro  knelt 
reverently  at  the  graves  and  placed  the  white  flow 
ers  upon  them.  As  she  rose  from  the  solemn  ser 
vice  she  said  feelingly  to  her  young  mistress, 
"Pend  upon  it,  missis,  sumbody's  bleeged  to  suffer 
fer  all  dis  gwines  on  epseps  dare  aint  no  troof  in 
proverdense  nur  grace  nudder.  Miss  Alice,  bress 
yer  life,  Grord  aint  ergwine  ter  suffer  his  people  ter 
be  mommucked  up  in  no  sich  er  fashion.  Now  dar 
is  dat  po  'oman  lying  out  dare;  ef  de  yankeys 
hadn'  t  kilt  her  onliest  son,  she  would  be  right  here 
ergwine  erbout  spreddin  flowers  on  de  grabes  o' 
dese  po  sojers,  und  she'd  er  heerd  ole  marser  a 
speechifying  to  all  dese  fokeses." 

Alice  was  not  in  the  humor  to  indulge  Clarissa 
in  further  observations.  She  was  thinking  of  a 
grave  over  yonder  in  old  Virginia,  and  wondering 
if  some  fair  han^  was  not  arranging  the  flowers 
and  tenderly  placing  them  upon  the  grave  of  her 
boy  lover. 

The  setting  sun  was  shooting  little  slivers  of 
gold  from  its  beautiful  disc  all  around  the  ceme 
tery,  and  the  shadows  from  magnolias  and  weeping 
willows  were  deepening  and  darkening  all  the 
while,  when  the  Colonel,  his  daughter  and  Clarissa 
drove  home  in  the  old  barouche,  tired  out  with  the 
fatigue  incident  to  the  day  and  its  burdens. 


THE   BROKEN    SWORD.  109 


CHAPTER   IX. 


THE    BROKEN    CRUSE. 

The  lights  were  burning  with  a  soft  glow  one 
night  in  the  mansion  when  the  announcement  was 
made  by  Clarissa  that  a  gentleman  stood  without, 
desiring  an  audience  with  the  old  master.  The 
gentleman  introduced  himself  as  Mr.  Summers 
(half  apologetically),  a  reconstructed  rebel.  There 
was  a  moment's  pause  in  which,  by  the  shimmer 
of  the  lighted  lamps,  Colonel  Seymour  saw  that 
the  visitor  was  quite  an  elderly  man,  without  beard 
and  with  soft  white  hair.  His  address  was  easy 
and  insinuating.  He  was  neatly  clad  in  black 
cloth,  and  impressed  Colonel  Seymour  as  being  a 
man  of  affairs.  Together  they  entered  the  library, 
the  Colonel  observing  that  he  conducted  all  busi 
ness  transactions  in  that  particular  room  just  now. 
Considering  the  unusual  hour  at  which  the  visitor 
had  arrived,  in  connection  with  the  unpleasant  in 
cidents  of  a  quite  eventful  day,  there  was  nothing 
reassuring  in  the  visit:  the  times  were  critical,  to 
say  the  least,  and  his  own  situation  so  entirely  de 
fenceless,  that  he  felt  as  if  "vigilance  was  truly 
the  price  of  liberty."  So  he  addressed  the  stranger 
in  a  manner  quite  emphatic — 

"May  I  enquire,  sir,  to  what  circumstance  I  am 
indebted  for  the  honor  of  this  visit?" 

"Why,  certainly,  sir,"  replied  the  bland  stran 
ger?  "But  will  you  permit  me  first  to  ask  after  your 
health  and  that  of  your  family?  How  are  you, 
sir?" 

"My  family — that  is  my  wife — is  quite  unwell, 
sir.  She  has  been  an  invalid  for  many  weeks,  and 


110  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

I  fear  there  is  no  possible  hope  of  her  recovery," 
said  the  Colonel. 

"Ah,  that  distresses  me  greatly;  perhaps  her 
condition  is  not  so  bad  as  you  fear.  May  I  ask  after 
your  health,  sir?" 

The  Colonel  hesitated  for  a  moment,  and  then 
observed,  deliberately,  "Physically,  I  am  quite 
well,  sir." 

"Did  I  not  see  you,  sir,  when  we  were  re-cross 
ing  the  Potomac  on  our  mad  flight  from  Gettys 
burg  at  the  lower  ford?"  enquired  the  stranger. 

"Mad  flight!"  echoed  the  veteran  with  ill-con 
cealed  wrath.  "Have  you  such  a  conception  of  the 
orderly  retreat  of  our  great  army  without  the  loss 
of  a  gun  and  without  the  capture  of  a  man,  as  to 
characterize  it  as  a  mad  flight?  Were  you  a  Con 
federate  soldier,  sir,  and.  do  you  insult  my  intelli 
gence,  my  loyalty,  yea,  my  bravery,  sir,  by  this 
challenged  inquiry  ?" 

"My  dear  sir,  if  the  statement  pains  you  I  will 
recall  it  instantly.  Pray  excuse  me.  I  was  Major 
of  the  7th  Virginia  Cavalry,  and  as  the  army  halt 
ed  at  the  ford  I  saw  an  officer,  a  Colonel,  who  was 
badly  wounded  and  who  with  great  difficulty  sat 
his  horse  on  that  occasion.  I  now  see  that  the  offi 
cer  whom  I  then  saw  is  the  gentleman  I  now  ad 
dress,  and  I  heartily  crave  your  pardon  for  the 
rash  expression." 

"Very  well,  then,"  replied  the  Colonel.  "We 
are  Confederate  soldiers  again,  and  will  make  our 
future  assaults  upon  the  enemy,  if  you  please,  and 
not  upon  Lee's  army,  that  whipped  the  enemy  at 
Gettysburg;  yes,  sir,  whipped  them  and  fell  back, 
sir,  because  our  base  of  supplies  was  menaced  by 
the  flooding  of  the  Potomac,  sir,"  fairly  hissed  the 
old  man  in  great  excitement. 

"My  dear  sir,  why  this  excessive  warmth?"  cried 
the  stranger;  "I  am  sure  we  understand  each  other; 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  Ill 

but,  my  dear  sir,  the  war  is  over — why  make  im 
aginary  assaults  upon  an  imaginary  enemy?  We 
are  entirely  in  accord.  We  entered  the  army  be 
cause  we  then  believed  we  were  right,  and — " 

''Knew  it,  sir,  knew  it,  and  know  it  now,  sir, 
know  it  now,  sir,"  fiercely  interrupted  the  Colonel. 

"Will  you  allow  me  to  ask,  my  dear  sir,  do  you 
recall  those  events  with  any  degree  of  pleasure?" 
asked  the  stranger. 

"Yes,  and  no.  When  I  realize  that  then  and 
now,  the  enemy  with  unbounded  resources  was 
eternally  casting  into  the  vat  of  pernicious 
fermentation  every  act,  thought  and  suggestion 
that  was  doubtful  in  interpretation,  and  brewing  a 
concoction  as  nauseous  as  the  black  vomit  of  the 
red  harlot  herself,  and  eructating  it  upon  us — 
the  recollection  is  painful;  but  when  I  remember 
that  every  sword  thrust  into  their  vitals  was  the 
act  of  a  patriot,  I  delight  to  recall  events  that 
crowned  the  old  South  with  undying  glory." 

"Allow  me  one  other  observation,  if  you  please," 
asked  the  stranger  in  a  tentative  way.  "Admit 
tedly  the  South  was  right,  but,  my  dear  sir,  do  you 
think  it  possible  that  men  like  yourself  who  gal 
lantly  fought  for  a  cause  they  sincerely  believed 
to  be  just  may  not  impress  their  individuality  up 
on  an  era  that  promises  so  much  for  the  betterment 
of  our  condition  as  a  people?" 

"Barely  possible,  I  imagine,"  replied  the  Col 
onel. 

"Are  you  inclined  to  favor  a  proposition  that 
has  in  contemplation  the  election  of  negroes  to  of 
fice." 

"No  sir;  such  a  proposition,  in  my  opinion, 
would  be  so  abhorrent  to  our  ideals  of  sovereignty 
that  I  should  consider  myself  a  traitor  to  the  South 
and  her  people.  Should  I  endorse  such  a  propo 
sition,  it  would  be  an  act  of  self  degradation." 


112  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

"But,  my  dear  sir,"  argued  the  stranger,  "you 
will  pardon  me  if  I  should  say  that  every  man 
must  look  out  for  his  own  safety.  Patriotism  to  a 
great  extent,  is  a  matter  of  sentiment,  and  a  great 
man  once  s'-ud  'It  is  the  last  refuge  of  a  scoundrel.' 
You  of  course  will  not  yield  to  such  an  interpreta 
tion,  nor  would  I  ask  you  to  do  so,  but,  sir,  we 
must  let  the  dead  past  bury  its  dead.  We  must 
live  in  the  present,  and  we  must  as  skilled  archi 
tects  build  for  future  generations  a  superstruc 
ture  that  shall  challenge  the  admiration  of  men 
yet  unborn." 

"That  is  to  say,  if  I  understand  you,"  interrup 
ted  the  Colonel,  "you  propose  to  inoculate  the 
South  with  the  poison  of  your  infamous  recon 
struction  policy,  to  engraft  upon  our  institutions 
a  new  and  dangerous  character,  and  besides  other 
atrocious  enormities  to  establish  the  spoils  princi 
ple — its  temptation  to  licentiousness — the  watch 
word  to  animate  your  corrupt  followers  to  a  savage 
and  unscrupulous  warfare,  sparing  neither  sex  nor 
age,  practicing  every  species  of  fraud  and  hypoc 
risy,  confounding  right  and  wrong,  and  robbing 
the  innocent  and  virtuous  of  thejr  only  treasure, 
their  manhood  and  womanhood.  What  is  your 
proposition,  sir,"  he  exclaimed  vehemently,  "but 
a  proclamation  to  the  venal  and  depraved  to  ral 
ly  to  the  standard  of  a  chief,  who,  like  the  lead 
er  of  an  army  of  bandits,  points  to  our  God- for 
saken  country,  and  says  to  your  plunderers,  'This 
shall  be  the  reward  of  victory.'  This  is  no  exag- 
eration,  sir;  disguise  it  as  you  may,  your  propo- 
osition  leads  to  brigandage  and  ruin." 

"But,  my  dear  sir,"  replied  the  stranger,  "you 
have  so  disarmed  me  by  your  arguments  that 
I  fear  my  mission  to  you  will  be  without  avail — 
will  you  allow  me  to  proceed,  sir;!  We  deplore 
the  fact,  sir,  that  our  most  virtuous  men  are  still 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  113 

braving  the  dangers  they  might,  with  a  little  cir 
cumspection  avoid;  still  plunging  headlong,  as  it 
were  into  great  heated  furnaces  whose  doors  are 
open  to  receive  them." 

"How  would  you  advise,  sir,  that  we  can  protect 
ourselves,  so  we  will  not  be  utterly  consumed,  but 
only  roasted  here  and  there"  asked  the  Colonel 
epigramiiiatically. 

Ah,  you  trifle  with  serious  matters"  replied  the 
white  haired  stranger.  "There  is  one  way,  sir, 
and  one  way  only — adopt  this,  sir,  and  the  coun 
try  will  honor  you  with  its  blandishments.  Take 
the  tide  at  its  flood,  and  co  operate  patriotically 
with  those  who  are  enforcing  manhood'  suffrage 
without  respect  to  educational  or  property  qualifi 
cations,  and  the  suffrages  of  the  adult  freemen, 
white  and  black,  will  be  cast  for  you  for  congress." 

"Ah,  a  tempting  bait,"  exclaimed  the'Colonel, 
"but  it  has  a  rancid  negroish  scent,  and  the  hook 
is  too  sharp — too  sharp  sir.  Do  you  intend  to  do 
this  thing!!"  continued  the  Colonel  interrogative 
ly. 

"Assuredly,    sir,"    the    stranger    replied,    with 

might  and  main. 

"Then  sir,"  shouted  the  indignant  man,  "this 
interview  ends  now." 

"One  more  word,"  pleaded  the  stranger,  "and  I 
have  <lun*i — please  bear  with  me  a  moment.  The 
Central  Executive  Commitee,  of  which  I  am  a 
member,  feeling  their  great  need  of  your  invalua 
ble  services  have  commissioned  me  to  make  known 
to  you  their  earnest  desire,  that  you  will  accept  a 
nomination,  from  the  party,  for  Congress  upon 
the  reform  platform." 

"You  mean  your  ultra  radical  platform,"  sug 
gested  the  Colonel. 

"No,  not  exactly  that,"  replied  the  stranger, 
"they  desire  further,  if  however  you  will  not  ac- 


114  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

cept,  that  you  will  submit    your   views   upon   the 
perplexing  subject  of  negro  or  manhood  suffrage." 

"And  you  are  sure  your  committee  will  act  upon 
suggestions  from  me?"  he  asked. 

"I  am  quite  sure  they  will,"  answered  Mr. 
Summers. 

"Then,  sir,  please  ask  your  committee,  as  a 
special  request  from  John  W.  Seymour,  to  put  the 
negroes  to  work  upon  the  farms;  and  the  carpet 
baggers  out  of  the  state,  and  hang  the  scalawags 
by  the  neck  until  they  are  dead,  dead,  dead, 
sir." 

"Tut,  tut,  tut,"  exclaimed  the  old  man  exci 
tedly,  "you  are  beside  yourself.  Remember,  my 
dear  sir,  that  you  are  sowing  the  wind,  and  by 
and  by  strangers  will  reap  the  whirl-wind.  Good 
night,  Colonel  Seymour,  I  hope  you  will  think  bet 
ter  of  the  matter. 

As  the  white  haired  stranger  passed  out  of  the 
door,  Clarissa,  who  was  closing  it  after  him,  en 
quired  of  her  old  master,  "Mars  Jon,  what  nice 
farderly  ole  man  was  dat  ole  gemmen?  he  peared 
lak  he  wus  mity  sorrowful.  Iseed  him  put  his 
handjkercher  to  his  face  lak  he  mout  be  weepin; 
what  did  yer  say  to  him,  ole  marser,  dat  upsot  him 
so  bad?" 

"Without  deigning  a  reply  Col.  Seymour  en 
quired  of  Clarissa  what  the  shouting  and  hallo 
ing  at  her  house  last  night  meant?" 

"Did  yer  heer  dat  racket  Mars  Jon?  I  spected 
yer  wus  asleep.  Twant  nuffin  epceps  Ned  und 
Joshaway  er  cuttin  up  der  shines.  Dem  niggers 
been,  to  town  und  cum  bak  drunk  as  horgs  in  de 
mash,  tub  und  sed  how  dat  dey  had  jined  de  mil- 
inter.y  cumpny,  und  was  agwine  to  clur  up  de  po 
white  trash  in  de  kentry,  fo  und  aft;  when  yer 
hurcl  dem  dey  wus  er  hollern  to  Ellik  how  dat  de 
boss  sed  dat  dey  mout  go  to  de  town  und  draw  de 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  115 

Ian  und  de  mule  und  de  penshun,  dat  dey  wus 
agwine  to  git  dern  nex  Saddy.  Lans  sake,  ole 
Marser,  I  specks  we's  agwine  to  have  orful  times 
in  dis  ken  try — de  niggers  turned  loose  lak  blaten 
sheepses  er  shullikin  und  a  pilfern  erbout  ebery 
which  a  way.  Ole  fokses  used  to  say  dat  wh^n 
de  tip  eend  ob  de  moon  wus  rite  red  lak,  dat  yer 
mout  look  out  fur  wars  und  ynrthshaks  too,  und 
I  seed  dat  ur  site  las  nite  'twixt  midnite  und  day 
und  it  fetched  what  de  ole  fokses  sed  rite  back  to 
my  member' nee.  I'd  hate  powerful  to  see  any 
udder  bellion  in  dis  Ian,  dat  1  would.  Not  ef  day 
is  ergwine  to  shoot  steerkyarts  und  wheel-barrers 
clean  froo  our  federick  sojers,  lak  dey  dun  de  last 
time.  Grate  king,  Mars  Jon,  what  sorter  ammy- 
nishun  did  dem  dare  yankeys  shoot  outen  dare 
kannons  ennyhow?  Frnm  de  way  our  po  sojers 
wuz  tore  to  pieces,  dey  put  me  in  membrunce  of 
ambylances,  und  powerful  big  wuns  at  dat;  Grate 
king'!  1  natally  heers  dare  po  flesh  er  sizzing  dis 
minnit.  Is  you  sho  ole  marser  dat  de  good  Lord 
is  ergwine  to  fetch  all  dem  arms  und  legs  und  heds 
togedder,  eend  fur  eend  at  de  resurreckshun,  so 
our  sojers  is  ergwine  to  know  pine  plank  which  is 
dere'n,  und  dey  drifted  disserway  und  datterway 
in  de  cornfields  of  Manassy  und  Chuckkernaorger 
und  de  Bulls  Run?  Grate  king!'' 

Contemporaneously  with  the  coming  of  the 
troubles  that  were  well  nigh  overwhelming  the  old 
veteran  and  his  beautiful  (laughter,  the  death  of 
the  wife  and  mother  came  as  it  were  the  knell  of 
doom — the  giving  away  of  the  last  arch  in  the  com 
pact  fabric  of  human  life,  the  snapping  of  the  last 
filament  in  the  web  of  destiny — the  leaking  of  the 
last  drop  of  oil  from  the  broken  cruse.  With  her, 
the  heart  could  be  nerved  to  extraordinary  endeav 
or;  with  her,  ever  so  many  bright  colors  could 
be  painted  upon  the  angry  horizon;  with  her,  the 


116  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

sunset  heavens  would  diffuse  a  glamour,  all  radi 
ant  and  glorious,  as  if  the  angels  were  kissing  its 
banners  into  crimson  and  with  deft  fingers  were 
garnishing  the  leaky  clouds  with  prismatic  hues; 
with  her,  the  little  birds  upon  sportive  pinions 
would  syllable  their  songs  into  the  dialect  of  love. 
But  she  was  passing  away — passing  away  like  the 
shadowy  vapor  that  clings  for  a  moment  to  the 
mountain's  crest,  like  the  resplendent  star  that 
shimmers  more  beautifully  as  it  is  dipping  its  disc 
below  the  western  verge,  and  bids  us  good  night — 
like  the  breath  of  the  crushed  flower  that  exhales 
its  aroma  for  a  moment,  and  is  gone.  Passing 
away  from  a  home  that  is  darkened  by  shadows, 
passing  away  from  the  hearts  that  are  consumed 
into  dead  white  ashes. 

What  black  stygian  waters  were  rushing  vehe 
mently  against  the  fretted  casements  of  these  poor 
souls.  Ties  that  are  sundering  here  are  binding 
into  a  glorious  sheaf  loves  and  affections  up  yon 
der,  as  imperishable  as  God's  great  throne.  Pass 
ing  away  from  the  frigid  griefs  that  are  soon  to 
environ  old  Ingleside,  when  the  blood  in  its  chan 
nels  is  to  pause  in  its  circulation,  when  a  negro,  vile 
and  savage  lacerates  the  dear,  dear  face  of  her 
beautiful  daughter,  and  her  precious  blood  follows 
the  thorns.  Passing  away  before  the  proud  head 
of  her  noble  husband  is  bowed  in  ignominy,  when 
the  shackles  of  a  felon  encircle  arms — enslave 
hands  that  never  struck  a  blow,  except  for  his 
bleeding  country.  Passing  away  to  plead  in  her 
own  glorified  person  to  a  merciful  Father  to  speed 
ily  unite  the  three  in  the  realm  of  joy,  where  there 
are  no  shadows  and  no  griefs. 

Poor  Alice  knew  as  by  revelation  that  the  life 
less  form  before  which  she  was  kneeling  and  weep 
ing  was  not  her  mother.  Oh,  what  a  royal  wel 
come,  what  a  banqueting  upon  love  there  will  be 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  117 

by  and  by,  when  the  terrors  of  the  horrid  recon 
struction  shall  so  chill  her  young  blood  that  it 
will  cease  to  flow,  by  and  by,  beyond  the  sighing 
and  the  weeping. 

Tenderly,  yea  reverently,  the  body  was  placed 
into  the  casket  and  removed  to  the  parlor,  just  un 
der  the  portrait  of  her  dear  soldier  boy  who  went 
to  heaven  from  the  gory  field  of  Manassas.  Friends 
had  gathered  into  the  room  and  the  man  of  God 
read  from  the  blessed  Book,  "I  ,im  the  resurrec 
tion  and  the  life."  The  solemn  discourse  was  al 
most  concluded  when  ruffianly  booted  feet  were 
heard  in  the  verandah,  and  a  loud  knock  was  heard 
at  the  door.  Armed, uniformed  negroes  had  come — 
come  like  an  Arctic  gale,  chilling  and  freezing 
heart  and  soul — with  a  mandate  to  snatch  the  liv 
ing  from  the  rl^ad. 

Laflin  himself  would  not  have  pursued  the  poor 
wretch  within  the  barred  precincts  of  the  sepul 
chre.  The  infidel  powers  of  the  East  would  have 
paused  when  they  saw  this  "truce  of  God."  But 
there  was  no  order  of  adjournment  in  the  message 
which  they  brought.  "Forthwith"  was  the  une 
quivocal  command  and  "forthwith"  was  now. 
They  had  come  to  take  the  broken-hearted  man, 
though  he  clung  to  the  casket;  come  to  prod  him 
with  bayonets  if  the  rigid  limbs  did  not  respond 
quickly  to  the  command,  "Quick  time — March!" 

Once  or  twice,  through  sheer  faint,  the  poor  old 
man  fell  out  of  line  and  against  a  black  guard  who 
violently  pushed  him  into  line  with  the  impreca 
tion — 

"D — n  yu,  git  back  inter  yer  place,  er  I'll  stick 
my  bagonet  clar  froo  yer." 

He  was  arraigned  before  three  white  men  and 
four  negroes,  and  in  the  presence  of  whom  stood 
the  white-haired  stranger,  Mr.  Summers. 

The  Colonel  did    not    clearly  comprehend   the 


118  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

character  of  the  accusation  against  him.  He  had 
been  informed  by  no  one  except  in  a  general  way. 
Perhaps  he  would  learn  as  he  followed  Mr.  Sum 
mers  in  his  address  to  this  tribunal. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  Mr.  Summers,  continuing  his 
speech,  "whilst  it  was  my  plain  duty  to  report 
upon  the  case  of  Colonel  Seymour,  I  do  so  with 
the  hope  that  he  may  be  given  a  day  to  answer;  in 
deed,  gentlemen,  I  pray  that  you  may  not  deal 
harshly  with  this  old  man,  who  is  now  in  the  sere 
and  yellow  leaf.  You  say  that  you  will  require 
him  to  turn  his  back  upon  the  traditions  of  the 
past — upon  the  ancient  landmarks;  that  he  shall 
fraternize  with  our  party,  in  fact  become  one  of 
us,  or  his  condition  shall  be  made  intolerable  and 
his  life  burdensome.  Spare  the  rod,  gentlemen, 
for  his  sake  and  for  the  sake  of  his  only  child." 

"What  have  you  to  say  for  yourself,  sir,"  asked 
the  chairman  frigidly,  addressing  himself  to  Col 
onel  Seymour. 

"Sir,  I  am  an  old  man.  One  more  turn  of  your 
wheel — the  tightening  of  the  cord  ever  so  slight — 
and  a  life  worthless  and  burdensome  will  drop  at 
your  feet.  The  standard  of  truth,  virtue  and  patri 
otism  has  bowed  its  once  lofty  crest,  and  is  now 
prostrate  in  the  dust.  All  that  was  beautiful  and 
lovely  in  this  land  of  our  fathers  is  sinking,  rot 
ting,  dying  beneath  the  blight  and  mildew  of  your 
accursed  lust  of  power.  Why  should  I  survive  ? 
My  life,  sir,  is  behind  me.  You  ask  me  to  be  your 
slave.  Sir,  your  bondage  is  inexorable — it  is  the 
life  of  an  outlaw,  a  traitor,  a  felon.  You  ask  me 
to  be  your  friend,  and  I  should  consort  with  thieves; 
I  should  crucify  every  principle  of  a  man.  You 
ask  me  to  be  your  candidate — my  consent  would  be 
an  act  of  stultification.  Sir,  against  your  savage 
principles  I  swear  an  eternal  hatred  and  wage  an 
interminable  war." 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  119 

The  feeble  old  man  sank  back  exhausted  into 
his  seat. 

"We  intend,"  exclaimed  the  chairman  with 
great  deliberation,  ''to  scarify  the  old  wounds  of 
the  rebels  until  they  bleed  afresh.  Sixty  days,  sir, 
within  which  to  prove  your  loyalty.  You  can  re 
tire  sir." 

Thus  ran  the  order,  marked  with  three  blood-red 
stars.  *  *  * 


120 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 


"K»sp  d- hitrh  amir-ruff  he   dun  und    seed  what    wuzer'vvire 
ter  com  arter  de  bellion  fell,  und   he  Bopp*i  ob?r  ter  <fe  publi- 

M^I  ™ — •'      e  Mars  J°n   haint  er^wine   ter  flop  nowheys,"  re 
plied  Clarissa. 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  121 


CHAPTER   X. 


FREEDOM  IN  FLOWER. 

Ned,  who  was  now  in  his  seventy  third  year, was 
drinking  to  intoxication  from  the  cup  the  carpet 
baggers  had  lifted  to  his  lips. 

He  sat  in  the  shade  of  a  mulberry  tree  near  his 
cabin  furbishing  his  musket  for  the  next  company 
inspection,  and  stopping  now  and  then  to  observe 
the  sportive  pranks  of  a  domesticated  raccoon. 

He  heard  the  irritable  voice  of  his  old  master 
calling  him  from  the  verandah  of  the  mansion,  and 
observed  with  gravity  to  his  wife — 

"Jes  lissen  at  dat!  Golly!  to  be  sho  ole  Semo 
dun  und  furgit  dat  dis  Soufland  is  konkered  und 
de  niggers  sot  free.  Haint  dat  a  purefied  scandle? 
De  werry  fust  munny  I  gits  outen  de  bero,  arter  I 
pays  fur  de  clay-banks  und  de  Ian  und  de  grate- 
house,  I'm  ergwine  to  uprare  er  silum  fer  dat  pa 
stractified  creetur  way  out  in  de  big  woods,  twixt 
dis  plantashun  und  de  crick,  whay  he  kin  call 
'Ned,  Ned!'  und  nobody's  ergwine  ter  ansur  but 
de  blue  herrons.  Don't  yu  heer  his  gwines  on, 
Clarsy?  Jeemes'  ribber !  don't  yu  heer  dat  ofe 
he's  dun  und  swore!  Sposin  de  surcus  rider  had 
er  heerd  dat  cuss  wurd  he  flung  at  me  und  yu? 
Golly!  he'd  histehim  upon  de  horns  o'  de  haltar 
twell  he  riggled  same  ez  er  fettered  wezul.  Dat 
makes  me  sez  whot  I  duz  erbout  dese  ole  isshu 
white  fokeses.  When  dare  aint  no  grass  in  de 
crap  und  de  smoke  house  am  full  o'  meat,  hits- 
brudder  dis  und  sister  dat;  but  bimeby,  when  de 
ole  isshu  draps  inter  de  trap  sot  by  de  scalyhorgs, 
Jeemes'  ribber!  'ligion  hez  dun  und  tuck  er  bacfc« 


THE    BKOKEN    SWORD. 

sot.  Don't  yu  see?  Yu  mout  sot  down  whey  datole' 
man  is  wid  yo  teef  clinched  same  ez  er  hasp  in  de 
lock,  und  he  mout  be  gwine  on  wid  his  stractified 
nonsense,  und  ef  yu  didn't  spishun  nuffin,  de  fust 
iing  you  node  hit  mout  be  ole  marser  dis  und  ole 
marser  dat,  und  bimeby  yu'd  clean  clare  furgit 
yosef,  dat  yu  wud,  und  be  totin  de  grubbin  ho  und 
er  swettin  ober"de  wire  grass  fur  de  secesh.  Don't 
yu  see  ?  Me  und  yu's  jes  bleegedter  walk  perpen- 
dikler  ur  we's  gwine  ter  be  kotched  agen  lak 
minks." 

"Dat's  de  troof,  hit  sho  is,"  interrupted  Clarissa 
with  emphasis." 

"Und  den,"  Ned  continued,  "me  und  yu  mout 
be  wusser  niggers  dan  in  slabery  time." 

"Pend  upon  it  dat  po  ole  white  man  has  dun  und 
gon  plum  strakted.  I  nebber  seed  sich  shines  as 
he  is  a  cuttin  up,  by  his  lone  lorn  sef,  in  all  my 
born  days,  nur  yu  nudder.  Dar  he  now  trapesing 
furwards  and  baccards  wid  boff  hans  ahin  his  back 
und  histin  up  his  cote  skeerts,  und  a  callin,  Ned, 
Ned!  jes  lac  slabery  times.  Ef  de  good  Lord  puts 
off  his  wisitation  much  furder,  und  don't  take  him 
outen  his  misry,  hes  gwine  to  sassinate  hissef  fore 
de  time,  kums.  'Ned,  Ned;  I  ses  Ned  Ned,'' 
grunted  the  old  freedman  mockingly.  "Jes  as  well 
be  callin  wun  of  Joshaway's  catfishes  outen  de 
crick,  ebery  bit  an  grane.  Clarsy,  don't  it  mak 
you  sorter  solumkolly  to  see  how  idjeotick  ole  mis 
ter  Semo  is  a  gittin,  sens  de  culled  fokes  is  frank- 
sized?" 

"It  sho  do,"  replied  Clarissa  with  some  force  of 
expression." 

"Pend  erpon  it  woman,  ef  we  culled  genmen 
don't  take  holt  of  dis  here  plantashun,  und  de 
house,  und  de  craps,  us  is  all  agwine  to  suck  sor- 
rer,  shows  you  born." 

"Dats  de  Lords  truff"  exclaimed  Clarissa. 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  123 

"Mr.  Semo,  he  don't  look  art*»r  nuffin,  dat  he 
don't,"  Ned  continued,  as  he  laid  his  musket  on  the 
ground  to  rub  his  back  against  the  jam  hot' the  chim 
ney,  "De  hoppergrasses  is  avourin  de  craps,  und  de 
cotton  is  in  degras  up  to  de  tip  ends,  und  de  drat 
ted,  flop-yeared  dorgs  is  jamby  et  up  all  de  sheep- 
ses,  und  dere  is  dem  hosses  in  de  stable,  a  whink- 
ering  und  a  whinkering  fur  a  moufful  ob  fodder, 
un  de  cattle  beastes  is  er  strayin  erway  inter  de 
mash,  und  cum  raiie  er  shine,  dare  is  ole  Mars  Jon 
asottin  dare  lak  er  ole  settin  turkey  hen  er  callin 
Ned,  Ned;  lak  dare  want  no  freedum  in  de  Ian. 
Twant  fur  Miss  Alice  dat  ole  man  und  all  tother 
fokeses  on  dis  here  plantashun  wud  be  lak  a  passel 
ob  gizzard  shads,  plum  run  down  to  nuffin." 

"Nowr  yu  is  a  woicin  it  Ned,"  again  exclaimed 
Clarissa,  as  she  stitched  the  last  feather  in  Ned's 
military  cap. 

"Dare  aint  but  one  way  fur  dat  ole  man  to  eber 
sucker  hissef  outen  his  misery  und  be  spectable," 
said  Ned. 

"Und  hows  he  agwine  tu  du  dat  Ned?"  inter 
rupted  Clarissa. 

"Don't  hit  stan  ter  reson  dat  ef  ole  Marse  Jon 
wud  jine  de  publikins  und  go  erbout  de  kentry 
baccards  and  furrards  a  speechifyin  fur  de  frank- 
sized  woters,  dat  he  wud  git  a  offis?  I  don't  blame 
ole  marser  fur  fitin  arter  Mars  Harry  got  kilt.  I'd 
fout  tu,  fur  my  onliest  boy,  but  whar  Mars  Jon  dun 
rong  wus  kase  he  didn't  scop  Mars  Harry  fore  he 
rid  off  to  Manassy.  Kase  Mars  Harry  he  didn't 
no  no  better  und  ole  marster  did,  don't  you  see  de 
pint,  Clarsy?" 

"I  sho  duz,"  again  exclaimed  Clarissa." 

"Dere  is  de  shuriff,  he  fit  in  de  war,  jess  lak 
Mars  Jon  dun,  and  whars  dat  man  now?  de  high 
shuriff!  Kase  he  seed  what  wus  agwine  tu  kum 
when  de  bellum  fell,  und  he  flopped  ober  to  de 


124  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

publikins,  und  de  fust  fing  yu  noes,  dat  man  is 
ergwine  tu  be  de  pressiden  ob  de  Newnited  States." 

"Haint  yu  seed  fo  now"  continued  Ned  argu- 
mentatively,  "wun  of  dem  dare  lorgerhed  turkles 
drap  back  into  de  mud,  ergwine  furder  und  furder 
und  er  setlin  down  und  downer  twell  he  kivers 
hisself  all  epseps  his  two  rad  eyes,  und  bimeby 
heer  cums  erlong  ole  Joshaway  er  probing  wid  de 
gig,  und  bimeby  he  gits  his  konfedence,  und  den 
he  flings  him  on  de  back  und  tells  him  rite  saft 
lak,  "please  stay  dar  twell  he  cums  back  ergin;' 
well  den  de  skalyhorgs  day  dun  und  got  deyselves 
sketched  in  de  offusses  jes  lak  dat  ar  turkle,  und 
de  fust  fing  yu  nose  ef  ole  Mars  Jon  haint  ergwine 
to  flop  ur  nuffin  heer  cums  erlong  ole  Jeff  Davis, 
de  secesh  man,  und  ole  Mars  Jon  er  probin  wid 
dare  ole  debbil  fork,  und  bimeby  day  flings  dem 
publekins  on  de  back  und  tells  dem  to  stay  rite 
dar  twell  day  cums  back.  Don't  yu  see;  und  den 
de  fat  is  dun  und  flung  in  de  fire  und  de  bellyun 
is  dun  un  riz  ergin.'  ' 

"Ole  Mars  Jon  ain't  agwine  to  flop  no  whers,  dat 
he  aint,"  ejaculated  Clarissa. 

"Den  he  aint  agwine  tu  git  no  ofns  nudder,"  re 
joined  Ned,  quite  seriously  and  relapsed  into  si 
lence. 

"Ned,  whats  yu  agwine  tu  du  wid  yosef  dis  ar- 
ternoon?"  she  asked. 

"Me"  asked  Ned,  "Ise  agwine  tu  scotch  mysef 
on  dis  here  plank  fur  a  nap,  dats  what.". 

"Whats  yu  gwine  to  do"  he  asked. 

"Me,"  asked  Clarissa,  I'm  agwine  tu  slabe  fur 
er  nocount  free  nigger,  lak  yu,  jess  lak  I  has  ben 
doin  fur  forty  yers,  dats  what." 

"No  count  free  nigger  hay!  dats  a  sin  to  yu 
Clarsy,  who  keeps  dat  ar  pot  bilin?" 

"Bilin"  she  asked,  in  disgust,    "Sposin   yu   lift 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  125 

dat  ar  led  offen  da.t  pot  an  see  whats  a  bilin,  taint 
nuffin  yu  fetched  home,  I  tells  yu  dat." 

Ned  distrustfully  advanced  to  the  fr>ri  place  and 
lifted  the  top  from  the  pot  and  sank  \>"-\  with  a 
groan,  into  an  ole  bottomless  chair. 

•'What  do  ail  you,  Ned?"  asked  Clarissa,  laugh 
ingly. 

"Lors  a  massy,  I  wudn't  a  had  yu  projjeck  wid 
me  dat  ar  fashun  fur  a  hundred  dollars.  I  wus 
skert  tu  ax  yu  what  yu  had  in  dare,  und  I  kep  a 
studdin  and  a  studdin,  und  I  kep  tryin  to  smel 
sum  yerbs  or  udder  ur  snuffin  an  er  snuffin  an  er 
snuffin,  und  I  kep  listenin  fur  yu  to  say  'Ned,  lift 
dat  bilin  pot  offen  de  farr  wid  dem  yurbs  und  horg 
meat;  hit  ar  sho  dun  by  dis  time',  und  Bress  de 
Lord,  it  haint  nuffin  ceptin  er  ole  kalliker  skeert; 
dat  dar  mistake  is  wurf  a  hundred  dollars.  Jess 
as  well  flung  a  hundred  dollars  outen  my  pocket 
into  de  fire,  as  to  gib  me  dat  ar  set  back.'  ' 

"A  hundred  dollars,"  mockingly  repeated  Clar 
issa,  "How  much  money  has  yu  had  sence  de  bel- 
yun  dun  fell?" 

"Me,"  asked  Ned. 

"Yes,  you,  dats  who,  how  many  cents  yu  had 
most  fo  yer  sence  freedum  cum  in  de  Ian,  und 
yu  is  as  ragged  as  a  settin  pefowell." 

"Nebber  mind,"  said  Ned,  "I'm  ergwine  to  git 
forty  akers  ob  dis  here  plantashun,  und  maby  de 
grate  house  flung  in,  und  I'm  gwine  to  git  de  peert- 
est  mule  on  de  hill,  und  when  I  flings  de  whoop 
und  pulls  de  ribbuns,  yu  is  ergwine  to  see  a  yerth- 
shake." 

"Ugh,  Ugh!"  ejaculated  Clarissa,  "I  mout,  und 
den  agen  I  moutent.  I  sees  yu  a  flinging  de  whoop 
now,  but  taint  ober  nary  wun  ob  ole  Mars  Jon's 
mules,  dat  it  taint.  I  seed  a  passel  ob  niggers 
tother  day,  jess  lak  yu,  a  flingin  de  whup  und  a 
pullin  de  ribbuns,  but  twas  in  de  conwic  camp  jess 


126  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

whar  yus  agwine  to  be  fo  de  hoppergrasses  wours 
ole  Mar's  Jon's  crap.  Dars  yer  a  stretcht  out  on 
dat  plank  in  de  brilin  sun,  lak  wun  ob  dem  stre- 
ked  lizzards  on  de  wurm  ob  de  fense,  wid  nary  a 
moufful  ob  wittles  in  de  house,  high  nur  lo.  Cum 
here  an  see  who  dat  is  agwine  long  yander  ercross 
de  medder  in  de  hot  brilin  sun,  wid  her  bonnit 
skeerts  lak  de  wings  ob  a  white  hearon,  a  fioppin 
backards  an  furards.  haint  dat  Miss  Alice?" 

Ned  raised  his  hand  to  shield  his  eyes  from  the 
hot  glaring  sun  as  he  observed,  ''Tain't  nobody 
else.  Ef  dat  ar  white  gal  don't  hab  de  tarryfyin 
feber  ur  de  brownskeeters,  den  I  haint  no  doctor." 

"I  wunder  whar  dat  ar  gal  is  ergwine  to  here  at 
twel  erclock  in  de  day,  und  de  July  flies  er  farely 
deefnin  de  fokeses  wid  der  racket?"  asked  Claris 
sa.  " 

"Lordy!  Lordy!  Clarsy,"  exclaimed  Ned,  "ef 
we  uns  only  hed  sum  ob  dem  gud  wittles  Miss  Alice 
got  in  dat  basket,  I  wudn't  be  in  narry  grane-ob  a 
hurry  fur  dem  forty  akers  ob  Ian  und  de  mule  nud- 
der,  wud  yu?" 

"Mout  hab  had  gud  wittles  all  dis  time  ef  yu 
hadn't  ben  sich  er  nambergastered  fule.  Yu  und 
Joshaway  er  tarnally  spasheating  erbout  hopper- 
rattucks  und  pianny  fortys  und  de  freedmun's 
bero  und  de  conwenshun  and  de  miluntary,  und 
bress  de  Lord  nary  wun  ob  yu's  seed  a  hunk  o' 
meat  ur  a  dust  o'  flour  sense  freedum  cum  in  de 
Ian,  und  boff  ob  yu  luks  dis  werry  minit  lak  per- 
ishin  conwicks,  ur  de  sutler's  mules  turned  out  to 
grass.  Neber  herd  dat  yungun  open  her  mouf 
agin  enybody  in  my  life,  white  er  black.  Ef  yu 
axes  her  fer  enyfing,  she  is  er  smolin  de  buti- 
fulist  smile  all  de  bre,ssed  time,  und  ef  de  cullud 
fokeses'  chillun  is  er  hongry  she  feeds  dem  wid 
lasses  and  honmy  und  gud  truck  twell  dey  is  fitten 
ter  pop  open;  und  when  dey  is  sick,  she  is  jes  lak 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

er  hark  angel,  und  bress  Gord,  dat  ar  gal  is  ergwlne 
tu  hab  er  golen  krown,  und  er  harp  too,  uiid  gole 
slippers,  when  herhed  is  lade  low;  und  ef  she  goes 
fust  I'm  ergwineter  keep  her  grabe  kivered  widde> 
butifulist  flowers  in  ole  missus'  flower  garden." 
And  Clarissa,  overburdened  with  the  tumult  of  her 
tender  soul,  began  to  sob  and  cry. 

"'Hit  nachully  tares  my  ole  hart  strings  outefi 
my  body  to  sen  her  dat  wurd;  'kase  yu  nose,  Ned, 
dat  Miss  Alice's  hans  is  tu  swete  und  tender  tu  cut 
de  wud  fur  de  kitchen  und  lif  dem  hebby  pots  ioj 
dis  yer  bilin  sun.  Ef  I  had  my  chusin  I  wudn'fr 
gib  wun  stran  ob  her  golen  hare  fur  all  de  freedum 
in  de  Ian,  undoleLincum  frowedin,  dat  I  wudn't/* 

Clarissa  could  maintain  her  equilibrium  when 
ever  Ned  expatiated  upon  matters,  persons  and 
events  unconnected  with  her  young  mistress,  but 
every  chord  of  feeling  in  her  black  bosom  was  in 
stantly  vibrant  with  emotion  if  anything  in  dis* 
paragement  of  her  was  spoken. 

Dear,  dear  child  !  She  was  now  oblivious  to  all 
that  was  passing  in  the  little  cabin. 

There  she  goes,  singing  a  sweet  lullaby,  on  her- 
mission  of  love,  moving  along  in  the  sunshine  that 
encircles  her  as  with  a  magic  zone  of  glory. 

The  little  daisies  lift  up  their  heads  to  laugh  ti£ 
they  whisper  to  each  other,  "There  she  goes,  our 
little  sweetheart!"  And  an  old  woman  essaying 
to  free  herself  from  the  fetters  of  the  tyrant  Death 
at  the  other  end  of  the  line  is  whispering,  "Here 
she  comes,  my  darliug!"  Her  great,  sympathetic 
nature,  whose  capacity  was  enlarged  to  embrace  all 
the  poor,  white  and  black,  made  the  black  cruel 
heart  of  Aleck,  even,  unwittingly  to  relent  after 
he  had  torn  her  fair  face  with  the  thorn  bush  in 
the  meadow. 

When  the  paralytic,  Alexander  MacLaren,  dletf 
twelve  months  ago,  he  bequeathed  a  redundance  of 


128  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

squalor  and  misery  to  his  widow,  and  now  death 
in  slouching  strides  was  coming  toward  her  little 
hut  beyond  the  meadow;  coming  as  if  unwilling  to 
take  away  the  old  friend  of  sweet  Alice;  coming, 
not  like  the  swift  cruel  messenger,  but  languidly, 
even  dubiously;  halting  to  ask  if  his  commission 
would  permit  him  to  spare  her  yet  a  little  while 
for  Alice's  sake.  There  was  a  footfall  upon  the 
door  block;  there  was  the  low  voice  from  within, 
"Come  in,  dearie,"  and  Alice  and  a  liood  of  sun 
shine  entered  together. 

"My  sweet  bairn,'1  the  old  lady  exclaimed,  in 
the  language  of  the  highlands,  "how  you  do  glad 
den  my  auld  een!  Let  me  kiss  you,  my  lassie,  ond 
touch  your  bonnie  hair  with  my  auld  stiffened  fin 
gers.  I  want  to  feel  your  presence  ivery  minute." 

Alice  bowed  lovingly  at  the  bedside  of  the  poor 
widow  and  kissed  the  pallid  cheek,  and  looking 
into  the  faded  eyes  asked,  with  heartfelt  sympa 
thy,  if  she  knew  who  had  kissed  her? 

"Ah,  vera  well  lassie,"  she  answered  smilingly. 
•"I  ken  nae  ane  in  this  puir  auld  world  but  you; 
And  why  should  I  dearie?  Do  you  think  I  shall 
«ver  cease  to  love  you,  Allie,  you  are  sae  bright 
and  trustful;  your  gentle  spirit  is  like  the  little 
star  that  shines  just  yonner  when  the  twilight 
deepens  into  the  night,  its  light  ond  joy  ond  com 
fort  are  for  some  ither  fauk,  for  some  ither  fauk," 
«he  repeated  with  earnestness. 

"Oh,  I  do  thank  you,  Mrs.  MacLaren,  for  such 
kind,  yet  undeserved  expressions,  they  are  sweet 
•dewdrops  that  are  always  leaking  from  a  heart, 
kind  and  true,"  said  Alice,  as  she  brought  from 
her  little  basket  such  delicacies  as  she  thought 
would  tempt  the  sick  lady. 

"Now  that  you  love  me  so  dearly,"  continued 
Alice,  "will  you  not  take  a  little  nourishment,  for 
my  sake?" 


THE   BROKEN    SWORD.  129 

"For  your  sake,  dearie,"  interrogated  the  old 
lady,  "thot  I  will,  and  thank  you  with  an  auld 
ruck  of  a  heart  thot  has  but  ane  love — all  for  you, 
chiel,  all  for  you.  If  I  live  it  will  be  to  bless  you, 
ond  if  I  dee  I  will  whisper  to  the  angels  to  love 
my  sweet  chiel  as  I  have  loved  you,  Allie." 

The  old  head  was  very  tired  and  the  eyes  that 
now  mirrored  another  light  than  that  which  came 
through  the  natural  senses  were  closing  as  Alice 
sang  so  tenderly,  so  softly  her  favorite  hymn;  and 
it  appeared  to  come  fragrant,  laden  with  the  aroma 
of  the  heather,  with  the  memories  of  thegude  auld 
days  from  the  glades  and  trossachs. 

"It's  here  \ve  hae  oor  trials,  ond  it  is  here  that  He  prepares 
A'  his  chosen  for  the  raiment,  which  the  ransomed  sinner  wears 
Ond  it  is  here  that  he  would  hear  UP,  ruid  oor  tribulations  sing 
We'll  trust  oor  God  whoreigneth  in  the  Palace  of  the  King. 

'•Though  his  palace  is  up  Conner,  He  has  kingdoms  here  below; 
Ond  we  are  his  ambassadors,  wherever  we  may  go; 
We've  a  message  to  deliver,  ond  we've  lost  anes  hame  to  bring 
To  be  leal  and  loyal  hearted,  in  the  Palace  of  the  King. 

Its  ivory  halls    are  bocnie,  upon    vhich    the  rain-bows   shine, 
Ond  its  Eden  bowers  are  trellised  with  a  never  fading  vine; 
Ond  the  pearly  gates  of  Heaven  do  a  glorious  radiance  fling, 
On  the  starry  floor  that  shimmers  in  the  Palace  of  the  King-" 

Noo  nicht  shall  be  in  Heaven  ond  nae  des.ilatirg  sea, 
Ond  naetyraut's  Loof  shall  tr  inple  in  the  city  of  the  free; 
There  is  everlasting  daylight  oud  a  never-fading  Ppring, 
Where  the  Lamb  is  nil  the  glorj  in  the  Palace  of  the  King." 

The  widow  lay  as  though  she  were  dead,  so  tran 
quil  was  the  slumber  that  had  kissed  down  her 
heavy  eyelids,  and  her  crossed  hands  were  laid 
upon  the  light  coverlid  that  rested  upon  her  bos 
om. 

"Oh,"  thought  Alice  as  she  looked  upon  the 
scarcely  animated  human  body,  "if  it  were  not  a 


130  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

sin,  and  if  you  were  not  so  wearied,  how  I  would 
envy  you,  Mrs.  MacLaren;  you  are  soon  to  be  so 
happy.  Your  tired  feet  will  soon  press  the  'Star 
ry  floor  that  shimmers  in  the  palace  of  the  King' 
ond  your  tired  een  will  soon  'behold  the  King  in 
his  beauty,  ond  your  tired  heart  will  throb  with 
a  divine  feeling  when  He  bids  you  welcome  in  the 
'palace  of  the  King;  ond  he  will  gae  you  the  title 
to  your  mansion  with  a  smile,  ond  you  ken  fine 
it  is  your  ain  hoose,  ond  after  sich  sae  travail  you 
have  coom  hame  to  abide  for  aye.'  ' 

After  a  while  the  old  lady  awoke  to  find  Alice 
kneeling  at  her  head,  to  wipe  the  damp  from  her 
brow  with  her  handkerchief. 

Alice  was  the  first  to  speak  and  she  said  quite 
endearingly  "How  are  you  now,  my  dear  Mrs. 
MacLaren?  I  hope  you  feel  ever  so  much  better." 

The  old  lady  with  some  effort  raised  her  eyes 
and  responded  feebly,  "Better  chiel.  Ah  my 
dearie,"  she  said  almost  hopefully,  "may  be  I'll 
nae  go  to  my  ain  hame  the  day.  Just  then  I  was 
so  weary  and  I  had  almost  forgotten  that  you  were 
still  with  me.  Ond  were  you  nae  singing  a  wee 
bit  ago  dearie?  or  was  I  dreaming  ond  heard  the 
Angels  singing,  'We'll  trust  our  God  who  reigneth 
in  the  palace  of  the  King?'  It  might  have  been  the 
voice  of  my  auld  mither,  I  dinna  ken,  I  dinna 
ken,"  si±e  repeated  emotionally. 

"If  you  are  not  tired,  Allie,  will  you  not  read  a 
passage  from  the  blessed  book,  just  to  make  me 
think  of  the  auld,  auld  story." 

Alice  took  the  Bible  from  the  little  deal  table 
and  upon  opening  its  pages  a  five  dollar  treasury 
note  of  the  Confederate  government,  of  the  issue  of 
eighteen  hundred  and  sixty  two,  fell  upon  the 
floor.  It  appeared  to  Alice  as  a  pictorial  representa 
tion  of  war.  its  havoc,  its  chariot  wheels,  with 
great  cruel  tires  and  knives,  and  its  heaps  of  slain . 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  131 

She  turned  it  over  and  saw  this  writing,  in  a 
neat  feminine  hand  on  the  back,  "It  was  not  for 
the  like  of  this  that  my  lad  was  slain  at  Gettys 
burg,  it  was  for  honor.  With  the  tidings  of  his 
death  came  this  note  from  his  hands.  'The  Lord 
gave  and  the  Lord  hath  taken  away,  blessed  be 
the  name  of  the  Lord.'  ' 

Alice  placed  the  note  back  in  the  Bible  with  the 
thought  almost  expressed  by  her  tongue,  "The 
liveliest  emblems  of  Heaven  are  His  saints,  who  in 
the  deep  sense  of  anguish  can  uplift  their  hearts 
to  Him  in  simple  child-like  faith." 

The  old  lady  again  expressed  herself  as  feeling 
so  much  better.  Poor  woman,  perhaps  it  was  but 
a  momentary  reinforcement  of  the  vital  energy, 
that  was  preparing  her  for  the  last  interview  with 
death,  when  he  should  come  again  with  shroud  and 
coffin.  "And  the  Spirit  and  the  bride  say  come," 
the  sweet  girl  began  to  read,  '  'and  let  him  that  hear- 
eth  say  come,  and  let  him  that  is  athirst  come,  and 
whosoever  will  let  him  take  of  the  water  of  life 
freely." 

"The  water  of  life  freely,  and  let  him  that  is 
athirst  say  come,"  echoed  the  old  lady  feelingly. 
"Ond  all,  all,  dearie,  we  shall  hae  in  ower  aboon- 
dance  in  the  palace  of  the  King,  bye  and  bye.  Ond 
wud  you  mind  putting  up  a  wee  bit  prayer  for  sich 
an  -Ki1  1  rack  of  a  body?" 

Alice  got  down  upon  her  knees  and  clasping  the 
hands  of  the  sick  lady  in  her  own  she  prayed  fer 
vently  that  the  Father  of  all  mercies  would  watch 
over  her  charge  who  had  been  faithful  through 
her  life;  deal  lovingly  with  her,  for  she  is  thy 
child;  be  with  her  now  and  always  to  comfort  her 
and  give  her  that  peace  which  the  world  cannot 
give  or  take  away. 

Alice  rose  from  her  supplication*  to  kiss  the  old 
lady  once  more  before  taking  her  departure,  when 


132  THE   BROKEN    SWORD. 

the  invalid,  pointing  to  a  little  box  in  beautiful 
Mosaic  upon  the  mantel,  said  to  her,  "You  will 
find  there  a  little  siller  that  I  have  put  by  for  my 
beerial  chiel,  for  the  gown  ond  the  coffin  ond  the 
grave." 

As  Alice  entered  the  old  mansion  at  Ingleside 
with  her  mind  tranquilized  by  the  experience 
through  which  she  had  just  passed,  she  heard  her 
father  in  quite  a  loud  voice,  call  one  of  his  old 
servants,  "Ned,  Ned,  where  is  that  black  rascal 
Ephraim?  " 

"Don't  know,  mars  Jon,  came  bacK  the  answer, 
Specks  he  is  dun  gone  to  de  baptising  in  de  crick 
sar." 

"Where  is  my  saddle  mare?  " 

"Don't  know  dat  sar,  nudder,  specks  she's  dun 
gone  wid  Ephraim  tu  sar." 

"Where  is  my  new  hat  and  umbrella  ?" 

"Don't  know  mars  Jon,  specks  dey  is  dun  took 
demselves  off  en  wid  Ephraim  tu  sar." 

"Who  is  that  banging  on  Miss  Alice's  piano  ?" 

"Dey  is  dem  culled  ladies  sar,  Miss  Maria  und 
Miss  Susan,  er  playin  high  opperattucks  sar.  I 
seed  dem  er  gwine  in  dere  und  spishoned  dey  wur 
gwine  rong,  und  I  axed  dem  to  play  de  high  opper 
attucks  some  wheys  else,  kase  dis  grate  house  was 
too  dimmycratuck  fur  dem,  but  dey  lowed  dat  dere 
daddy  had  worked  fur  hit  und  dey  wus  hissen  und 
den  I  didn't  say  no  mo,  kase  I  wus  afeeired.  Pend 
erpun  hit,  mars  Jon,  de  bottom  rail  has  dun  got  on 
top  now  sho  nuff." 

Reconstruction  had  come  with  its  mildew.  Black 
cavernous  mouths  were  lapping  up  the  virus  and 
spitting  it  out  everywhere.  Retribution  in  history 
had  come  too  with  the  evolution  of  the  negro. 

The  old  master  like  a  besieged  baron  of  mediae 
val  civilization,  was  still  looking  out  upon  his  broad 
domains  and  his  cattle  upon  a  hundred  hills,  but 


THE   BROKEN    SWORD.  133 

there  was  rust  upon  the  plow  shares,  tares  in  the 
wheat,  cockles  in  the  rye.  and  the  high  noon  bell 
in  its  tower  hung  lifeless  and  tongueless.  No 
summons  thence  to  the  tired  hands  and  feet 
and  backs  upon  the  old  plantation.  Labor  was 
disorganized — discipline  a  dead  precedent — the  ne 
groes,  like  the  swallows  and  ravens  in  the  old  rook 
ery,  homeward  and  townward  as  they  list,  were 
pluming  their  flight. 

The  many-gabled  mansion  lay  fast  asleep  in  the 
Sabbath  nooning.  A  bee-martin,  as  it  leaped  to 
wing  from .  the  neglected  meadow,  piped  a  shrill 
note  or  two  and  scurried  away  after  the  thieving 
crow;  and  the  interlacing  oaks  and  elms  of  a  cen 
tury's  growth  coquetted  with  the  whispering  winds. 

Alice  felt  that  she  had  sustained  a  mortal  shock 
when  she  heard  the  sound  of  her  mother's  piano, 
every  chord  thrilling  with  strange  dissonance;  bois 
terous,  vulgar  singing  and  the  shuffling  of  feet 
upon  the  richly  carpeted  floor. 

She  started  to  enter  the  room  when  a  rude  black 
hand  was  placed  with  violence  upon  her  arm,  and 
she  was  thrust  back  into  the  hall,  with  the  remark, 
"jess  git  outen  here  forth wid.  Us  ladies  is  musin 
our  selfs  er  makin  dis  ole  fing  farly  howl.  Daddy 
ses  how  dat  ef  we  cullud  ladies  notices  white  trash 
lak  yu  is  eny  mo  he's  ergwine  ter  whup  us  an' 
whup  us  good,"  and  with  this  they  courtesied  to 
ward  each  other  and  retired  as  if  they  had  been 
princesses  of  some  black  realm. 

Alice  wept  out  her  indignation  in  her  mother's 
room.  Poor  Alice  !  Sowing  the  wind!  By  and  by 
what  shall  the  harvest  be? 

"Ned,"  called  Colonel  Seymour,  "tell  Aleck  to 
come  to  me."  Ned  came  back  in  a  few  minutes 
concealing  a  grin  with  his  open  hand  to  his  mouth. 
"Boss,"  he  said,  "I  seed  Ellick,  und  he  tole  me 
how  dat  I  mout  tell  yu  pintedly  dat  ef  yu  wants 


131  THE    BROKEN    6WOED. 

ter  see  him  \vusser  dan  he  do  yu,  yu  mout  cum  ter 
him  er  let  hit  erlone  udder.  Dem  wus  his  berry 
wui  ds."  The  old  man  turned  away  with  the  wish  iii 
his  heart  that  the  black  vat  of  reconstruction  miarht 
be  heaped  up  to  the  brim  with  the  freedmen  who 
had  turned  their  backs  upon  their  only  friends. 

As  the  evening  sun  was  drawing  a  watery  cloud 
before  its  face  to  shut  out,  if  possible,  the  dregra- 
dation  of  the  white  people  of  the  South,  Ephraim 
rode  up  at  break-neck  speed  upon  the  exhausted 
mare  and  as  he  alighted  upon  the  foot-block  he 
threw  the  bridle  towards  his  old  master  with  the 
insulting  demand,  "unsaddle  dat  beastis  Semo, 
widout  yu  wants  her  tu  tote  de  saddle  all  her  life." 

"You  insolent  scoundrel  !"  exclaimed  the  old 
man  in  white  heat,  "has  it  come  to  this?1' 

"Looker  heer,5'  po  white  man,  dus  yu  no  who's 
yu  er  sassin  \  Ise  er  spectable  cullud  gemman,  sar, 
er  franksized  woter,  sar,  und  what's  yu  sar?  Po 
down  white  trash.  Take  yer  ole  mar  und  yer  ole 
umbrill,  und  yer  ole  hat,  und  go  ter  de  debbil." 
Thus  was  slipping  away  the  eventide  of  the  day 
that  God,  in  his  infinite  condescension  aeons  ago, 
had  hallowed  and  blessed. 

In  the  excitement  of  these  almost  tragical  events 
Alice  had  quite  forgotten  the  sick  woman  across 
the  meadow,  and  she  was  hurrying  there  as  fast  as 
she  could,  when  she  was  intercepted  in  her  journey 
by  Aleck,  who  commanded, 

"Hole  up  dar,  white  'oman!  Whar  is  yer  agwine 
wid  dat  baskit  und  dem  wittles?" 

The  girl  was  greatly  alarmed  at  the  presence  of 
the  brutish  negro  in  this  solitary  place  and  she 
spoke  as  complacently  as  possible  and  told  him 
that  she  was  carrying  some  food  to  poor  Mrs.  Mac- 
Laren.  "Will  you  not  let  me  go  on?"  she  said;  "the 
poor  woman  is  very  ill,  and  I  am  sure  that  I  am 
doing  no  one  any  harm. 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  135 

"Yes  yu  is  fer  a  fac,  the  negro  replied  with  an 
ger,  pears  lak  yu  an  yer  yo  ole  daddy  is  terminated 
tu  gin  de  culled  genmen  all  de  tribulashun  yu  kin 
und  we  haint  ergwine  tu  stan  hit  no  longer.  Boff 
ob  yu  is  jist  got  tu  git  outen  de  grate  house  und 
stop  toting  wittles  tu  depo  white  trash.  When 
we  takes  holt  ob  dis  plantashun  dey  haint  ergwine 
ter  be  nary  horg,  nur  chickin,  nur  pefowell  on  de 
Ian  und  de  culled  genmen  und  ladies  will  be  bleeged 
to  look  at  tother  wuns  and  suck  dey  fingers  in  mis 
ery." 

As  the  negro  turned  away  from  the  affrighted 
girl  he  purposely  threw  against  her  fair  face,  with 
a  deft  hand  a  thorn  switch,  that  tore  the  flesh  and 
caused  the  cheek  to  bleed  and  then  laughed  with 
the  gratification  of  an  arch-fiend. 

She  went  on  ijer  way  in  silence  but  her  outraged 
spirit  could  hardly  contain  itself,  and  this  she  said 
to  herself  with  burning  anger  is  reconstruction  ! 
A  civilization  that  with  whipcords  and  chains  has 
suspended  law  and  love  and  benevolence. 

When  Alice  reached  the  little  home  of  the  widow 
she  knew  that  the  death  angel  had  entered  before 
her  and  was  putting  his  icy  finger  upon  the  eye 
and  the  heart,  and  with  an  almost  inaudible  ex 
clamation  of  "poor  Allie"  she  passed  away. 

With  tenderness  and  love  Alice  arranged  the 
coverlid  over  the  body  and  locked  the  door  and 
went  in  search  of  help  to  prepare  the  old  woman 
for  burial.  She  saw  aunt  Charlotte  gathering  sticks 
for  fuel  for  the  pot  that  was  boiling  in  her  yard, 
for  it  was  wash  day,  and  told  her  that  poor  old  Mrs. 
McLaren  was  dead.  Will  you  not  go  with  me  and 
give  such  assistance  as  you  can  ?"  "Dat  I  wont," 
sharply  replied  the  old  negress  "Ise  dun  und  got 
way  by  any  sich  drudgery  as  dat  now  a  days. 
When  wun  ob  our  siety  ceases  we  has  grate 
blowin'  ob  horns  und  muskits  shooting  at  de 


136  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

grabe  und  ebery  body  is  as  hapy  as  er  rane  frog  in 
de  wilier  tree.  Yu  sees  dem  dere  bilin  cloes  in  de 
pot  don't  yu,  and  yu  sees  dat  ar  sun  ergwine  down 
as  peert  as  er  race  boss,  well  den  Ise  got  my  orders 
from  Joe  und  I  don't  ame  tu  git  a  beatin  when  lie 
cums  home  ef  I  kin  hep  it." 

Alice  went  on  and  there  were  fantastic  shadows 
here  and  there  in  the  primitive  landscaping  of  na 
ture  and  timid  rays  of  the  setting  sun  were  steal 
ing  softly  through  thorn  and  bush  and  bough.  She 
found  Mary  Perkins  and  her  younger  sister  Gussie 
at  home  and  she  knew  that  poverty  had  not  des 
troyed  their  kindly  natures.  She  told  them  with 
sadness  her  mission  and  when  the  little  assem 
blage  gathered  reverently  in  the  little  glebe  the 
next  day  and  the  man  of  God  uncovered  his  white 
locks  and  looked  upon  the  forbidding  pall  and 
grave,  there  was  a  broken  column  of  white  flowers 
resting  over  the  dead  heart  of  poor  Mrs.  MacLaren. 
<  'Earth  to  earth,  ashes  to  ashes,"  is  the  universal 
requiem  of  nature —  the  proclamation  an  offended 
God  uttered  when  he  placed  sentinel  Cherubim  with 
flaming  swords  in  Paradise  to  guard  its  portals. 
It  was  the  voice  of  the  aged  ambassador  of  Christ 
this  day,  when  there  was  no  responsive  sound  to 
come  forth  from  the  dark  chamber  hidden,  under 
the  clods  of  the  valley. 

Alice  returned  from  the  burial  in  a  spirit  of 
Tesignation,  clad  in  a  coat  of  mail  figuratively 
speaking,  strong  and  riveted  in  every  joint. 
^'What  sore  need  for  the  upbuilding  of  character 
in  this  degenerate  age  ;  when  evil  is  personified; 
when  courage  is  so  sadly  needed,  said  the  girl,  I 
will  try  ever  so  hard  to  be  pure  in  heart." 

She  joined  her  father  in  the  verandah  for  a  few 
moments,  and  she  saw  at  a  glance  that  the  old  man 
was  battling  with  conflicting  emotions. 

He  said  at  last  very  disconsolately,  as  he  stroked 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  137 

her  golden  tresses.  "I  had  hoped  my  darling  child 
to  go  to  my  grave  in  a  green  old  age,  but  if  it 
please  God  to  take  me  and  my  child  I  should  not 
murmur.  God  knows  I  am  drinking  the  lees  from  a 
cup  full  of  bitterness.  The  reconstructionists  say 
that  they  are  making  treason  odious  and  are  scour 
ing  the  land  for  distinguished  examples." 

"Let  us  not  despair,  dear  father"  said  Alice  as 
she  threw  her  arms  around  the  old  man's  neck. 
"You  still  own  dear  old  Ingleside.  Let  us  sell  what 
we  have  and  flee  ere  the  whirlwind  shall  over 
whelm  us  with  evil,  I  will  work  for  you  father  and 
we  may  be  happy  again  some  day,  somewhere. 
The  good  Lord  will  stay  the  hands  of  our  oppres 
sors  but  let  us  not  wait  for  that,  let  us  go  hence  as 
quickly  as  we  can." 

"You  almost  unnerve  me  my  dear  child  with 
your  eloquence  and  tears,  but  that  will  not  do.  I--I 
can  clean  the  rust  from  my  old  sword  and  I  am 
sure  it  will  cut  as  red  a  swath  now  as  it  did  in  '63. 
Our  Scotch  -  Irish  blood  is  thicker  than  water. 
Never  shall  it  be  said  by  the  craven  hearted  enemy 
that  John  Seymour  has  ever  defiled  the  proud 
lineage  of  his  people.  Let  us  dismiss  these  un 
happy  thoughts  and  pray  at  least  for  our  disen- 
thralment." 

Monday  came  and  the  shadows  began  to  deepen. 
The  patriarchal  oaks  and  elms  were  still 
bowing  gracefully  each  to  its  vis  a  vis. 
There  was  no  cook  in  the  old  mansion,  no 
stable  boy  to  feed  the  horses,  and  old  Jupiter  like 
the  old  sexton  among  the  graves  was  groping  hith 
er  and  thither  abstractedly,  perhaps  in  quest  of 
memories. 

Clarissa  the  old  standby  had  rebelled,  rebelled 
against  the  sovereignty  that  had  been  too  indul 
gent  and  too  patriarchal  perhaps;  rebelled  against 
a  mistress  and  a  master  who  condoned  every  failing 


138  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

of  her  nature;  rebelled  against  a  destiny  made  tip 
of  the  comforts  of  life,  without  its  sacrifices. 

You  will  come  back  home  some  fair  day  Clarissa 
and  there  will  be  tears  in  your  eyes,  there  will  be 
sorrow  in  your  old  black  heart,  and  penitence  syl 
labled  upon  your  tongue.  You  will  come  back  to 
tell  your  dear  young  mistress  something  of  the 
delusions  that  made  you  swerve  from  interest  and 
duty  and  you  will  see  the  light  of  forgiveness  in 
the  pretty  blue  eyes  of  Alice. 

The  message  came  as  it  were  wrapped  up  in  cac 
tus  leaves.  "Tell  Miss  Alice  dat  she  needn't  speck 
culled  ladies  is  ergwine  to  mommick  up  dey  sevs  no 
mo,  cooking  wittles  fur  de  white  trash.  Ned  is  er 
gwine  tu  git  er  organ  und  hosses  und  kerridge  und 
she  wus  ergwine  tu  split  de  rode  rate  wide  open  er 
cummin  und  ergwine.  He's  dun  und  jined  de  mil- 
intery  company  und  sakes  er  live  dat  genmen  does 
hab  de  butifullist  feathers  and  buttons  und  muskit 
tube  sho  !  "  Poor  Alice  in  her  heart  "  felt  like 
one  who  treads  alone,  some  banquet  hall  deserted; 
whose  lights  had  tied,  whose  garlands  dead  and 
all  but  her  departed." 


THE   BROKEN    SWOED.  139> 


CHAPTER  XI. 


THE    MAJESTY    OF    THE    LAW. 

Another  morning  came  and  there  was  a  cook 
preservingly  tasking  herself  with  a  round  of  slav 
ish  duties  in  the  kitchen;  but  she  did  not  come 
from  Ned's  cabin. 

Old  Jupiter,  the  pet  hound,  looked  up  into  her 
fair  face  as  if  to  say,  "You  will  not  forget  me 
when  breakfast  is  ready  will  you  ?"  As  quietly  as 
possible  she  went  about;  there  was  no  rattling  of 
cups  and  plates,  for  the  new  cook  said  as  she  came 
softly  out  of  her  chamber  "my  dear  father  must 
not  be  disturbed  this  morning."  She  went  resign 
edly  to  her  toil.  There  was  a  blister  or  two  upon 
her  soft  white  hands,  but  father  will  kiss  the  fire 
out  of  them  when  he  comes  to  breakfast;  and  then 
we  will  give  thanks  to  God  for  His  bounty  and  in 
our  home  it  may  be  that  we  shall  be  happy. 

As  her  father  entered  the  room,  Alice  ran  to  kiss 
him,  observing  that  she  would  not  ask  for  a  com 
pliment  this  morning,  as  it  seemed  that  Clarissa 
had  communicated  her  mad  spirit  to  all  the  ap 
purtenances  of  the  kitchen;  the  fire  would  not  burn 
and  the  kettle  had  gone  off  upon  a  rampage,  per 
haps  as  Clarissa's  carriage  would  go  when  driven 
upon  the  corduroy  roads  of  reconstruction;  and 
then  again  she  had  prodded  her  hand  unnecessarily 
with  the  sharp  tines  of  a  fork  with  which  she  was* 
marking  points  in  the  biscuits. 

Her  father  laughed  at  her  little  deficiencies  as 
he  relaxed  his  stern  old  face  to  kiss  her  and  said 
to  her  approvingly  "perhaps  you  will  yet  be  a  CHEF 
in  this  responsible  department  my  daughter." 


140  THE   BROKEN    SWORD. 

Together  they  sat  down  to  their  meal;  together 
their  hearts  were  uplifted  unto  Him  who  had  made 
for  them  such  ample  provision. 

"And  now  my  daughter  said  the  colonel  smiling 
ly  as  he  was  leaving  the  room  what  are  your  prog 
nostications  for  today.  Shall  we  have  peace  and 
rest,  or  surprises  and?"  he  had  not  concluded  the 
enquiry  when  a  rude  knocking  came  from  the  hall 
door.  A  frown  intantly  shadowed  the  veterans  face. 
The  hour  for  inquisitorial  visits  or  interruptions 
was  unseasonable,  ''what  could  it  mean?"  he 
queried. 

"Is  yo  name  Semo  ?"  asked  a  ruffianly  negro  in 
uniform,  as  the  old  soldier  opened  the  door  "It  is," 
replied  the  colonel  restraining  his  wrath. 

"Yu  is  summuns  to  kote  sar  forthwid." 

"Why  such  a  requisition,  will  you  please  ex 
plain,"  demanded  the  colonel. 

"Don't  ax  fool  questions  white  man;  cum  rite 
erlong,  dis  heer  rit  bleeges  me  to  tak  yu  ded  er 
live. 

The  colonel  went  to  the  stable  to  saddle  Nelly 
and  she  was  gone,  Sweetheart  was  also  gone,  and 
so  were  the  other  horses. 

He  came  back  with  the  information;  the  negro 
laughed  savagely  in  his  face,  and  told  him  "dat  de 
milintery  company  was  er  drillin  in  de  town  "und 
he  seed  his  hosses  ergwine  to  de  drill-ground  wid 
de  sargent  und  de  corprul  und  de  flagman. 

The  colonel  looked  into  the  face  of  the  ne^ro  as 
he  asked  despairingly:  "How  am  I  to  obey  the  or 
der?  I  have  no  way  of  getting  to  your  court." 

"You  has  got  ter  go  ded  er  live,  I'm  er  gwine  to 
gib  yu  one  hour  to  git  ter  kote  und  den  I'm  agwine 
ter  fetch  yu  wid  de  possum  common  taters,"  and 
the  negro  gave  his  horse  the  whip  and  cantered 
away." 

Sixty-five  years  had   stiffened  the  joints  of  the 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  141 

old  man;  his  muscles  and  sinews  were  relaxed  and 
gouty,  but  the  order  must  be  obeyed ;  no  tempo 
rizing  with  the  policy  of  reconstruction,  no  annul 
ling  an  order  when  issued  from  a  court. 

The  old  gentleman  halting  from  sheer  weakness 
ascended  the  rickety  stairway  of  the  court  room 
and  he  saw  the  power  of  the  law,  its  learning,  its 
dignity  prostituted  to  ignoble  purposes. 

He  saw  the  power  of  reconstruction,  its  ignorance,, 
its  venality  accentuated  to  a  degree  that  provoked 
his  abhorrence 

He  saw  as  he  entered  the  house  the  American 
flag  drooping  in  graceful  folds  over  the  bench,  and 
he  felt  that  judicial  authority  was  reinforced  by 
the  strength  and  dominion  that  overpowered  the 
South. 

A  stupid  negro  as  black  as  the  hinges  of  mid 
night  sat  upon  the  judgment  seat;  sat  there  as  a, 
representative  of  the  law  that  had  for  its  substan 
tial  underpinning  in  all  the  bygone  ages,  honesty, 
capacity,  promptitude,  justice;  sat  there  under  a 
commission  to  checkmate  evil. 

There  were  but  two  white  men  in  this  revolting 
presence,  beside  the  veteran,  whose  face  was  now 
marked  by  fatigue  and  despair,  and  who  dropped 
exhausted  upon  a  rude  bench. 

They  were  not  there  from  choice  but  because  the 
law  of  the  bewildered  land  had  brought  them  there. 

Judge  Blackstock's  black  face  looked  out  of  a 
canopy  as  of  carded  wool;  beetling  eyebrows  of 
snowy  whiteness  would  rise  and  fall  automatically 
like  the  crest  of  a  kingfisher;  the  contour  of  his 
face  was  made  ridiculously  picturesque  by  great 
brass  rimmed  spectacles  that  sat  reposefully  below 
the  bridge  of  his  nose. 

A  spring  tide  one  day  washed  him  out  of  a  fish 
erman's  hut  into  the  office  of  a  justice  of  the  peace, 
where  he  was  dipping  out  of  his  Dutch  nets  a  larger 


142  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

fry. 

The  old  negro  was  not  vicious  or  malignant,  only 
ignorant,  fanatical  and  superstitious,  with  a  re 
ligious  vein  that  ran  in  eccentric  curves  and  sharp 
lines  through  his  stupid  nature. 

Laflin  was  his  apotheosis,  his  providence,  his  in 
spiration.  It  was  Laflin  he  believed  who  had  placed 
in  the  mid-heavens  the  great  luminary  of  freedom; 
who  had  written  upon  amaranthine  leaves  the  pro 
clamation  of  emancipation  ;  and  who  had  erected 
within  his  reach  the  huge  commissariat  dripping 
all  the  while  with  fatness. 

It  was  to  Laflin  that  he  carried  his  docket  every 
morning  to  be  paragraphed  by  stars  and  asterisks 
against  the  names  of  particular  offenders  ;  and  it 
was  to  Laflin  that  he  read  the  judgments  of  the 
court  whenever  rebels  were  indicted. 

If  ''Ilderim"  the  sheik  could  have  seen  the  old 
negro  with  his  mace  of  office  presiding  in  his  court 
he  would  have  recognized  his  maternal  uncle. 

The  black  judge  retained  his  office  rather  by 
sufferance  than  popularity.  He  was  guided  by 
convictions  that  were  illogical  and  foolish;  sla.very 
he  believed  to  have  been  the  whipcords  of  an 
offended  God  with  which  he  smote  his  chosen 
people  the  negroes  hip  and  thigh.  This  man 
was  one  of  the  judges  who  was  caricaturing  re 
construction;  inditing  as  it  were  a  pictorial  com 
mentary  of  the  law  of  crimes  and  misdemeanors 
in  misfitting  cartoons. 

"Make  de  pocklermashun,  officer"  he  said  to 
the  negro  constable  as  he  placed  in  his  right  cheek 
a  huge  quid  of  tobacco. 

"Oh  yes, ''shouted  the  constable  "dis  kote  is  open 
fur  de  suppreshun  ob  jestis  ;  walk  Kg  lie." 

The  judge  adjusting  his  spectacles  with  a  judicial 
temper,  read  aloud  a  warrant.  "De  state  agin  Ed 
ward  Sanders." 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  143 

"Stand  up  darprisner;  is  yu  gilty  ob  dis  high  de- 
predashun  ob  de  law  ur  is  yu  not  gilty  ? " 

"Not  guilty,"  replied  Mr.  Sanders. 

"What  maks  yu  say  dat  white  man  ?  "  asked  his 
honor. 

"Because  I  am  not  in  the  habit  of  lying,"  re 
plied  the  offended  man.  "Look  a  heer  white  man 
I  aint  agwine  ter  hab  no  bigity  in  dis  kote,"  said 
de  judge  as  he  pointed  his  long  bony  finger  with 
a  savage  frown  at  the  prisoner,  "yer  'nose 
dis  heer  kote  is  agwin  ter  mak  itsef  ojeous  und  a 
pine  plank  scandle  und  stinchtodem  dat  goes  agin 
de  law.  Don't  dis  heer  warrant  sezs  how  dat  yu 
dun  und  dun  dis  heer  depredashun  und  now  yu 
ups  und  sez  how  dat  yu  didn't.  The  jedge  ob  dis 
kote  aint  agwine  agin  his  own  affidavy  und  yu  is 
foun  gilty  upon  de  hipsy  dixsy  ob  dis  heer  war 
rant." 

"But. I  beg  that  I  may  be  allowed  to  introduce 
witnesses  who  would  prove  me  innocent,"  exclaim 
ed  the  prisoner. 

"How  in  de  name  ob  G-od  is  dey  gwine  to  prube 
yu  innercent  when  de  warrant  hab  dun  und  foun 
yu  gilty?  tell  me  dat"  asked  the  judge  argumen- 
tively. 

"Do  you  mean  to  convict  a  man  in  your  court 
who  has  not  been  judicially  tried,"  asked  Mr.  San 
ders  I 

"Say  dat  ober  agin"  commanded  the  judge  as  he 
leaned  forward  using  his  open  hand  as  a  ear  trum 
pet;  "dis  kote  don't  comprehen  de  fassinashun  ob 
de  question,"  and  the  prisoner  repeated  the  ques 
tion  with  emphasis. 

"Eggzackly  so,"  exclaimed  the  judge,  "I  sees  de 
pint ;  you  is  perseeding  to  put  dis  kote  in  contempt 
wid  your  obstropuous  language  ;  dis  kote  is  gwine 
to  rite  its  judgment  so  de  boss  can  read  it  widout 
his  specks  ;  Hit  has  heerd  de  state  pro  und  con 


144  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

und  hit  has  measured  out  its  ekality  in  golden 
stillyurds,  and  upon  de  hole  kase  und  de  aggra- 
washuns  dareof  yu  is  foun  one  hundred  dollars 
und  recognized  fur  your  good  behavens  fur  a  year 
und  a  day.  Officer,  he"  continued  addressing  the 
negro,  "size  up  dat  white  man's  pile  und  tak  out  er 
hundred  dollars  fur  de  fine  fore  yu  turns  him 
loose." 

"Next  case"  he  exclaimed,  "dare  is  dat  Betsy  Col 
lins  agin;  er  witness  fur  de  state  agin  Mr.  Thom 
son"  he  continued  deprecatingly,  "allus  agittinup 
a  great  flustration  agin  de  po  house;  a  runnin  to  dis 
kote  wid  arrant  lies  lak  hit  was  agwine  ter  trude 
itsef  on  brudder  Thomson's  feelins." 

"What  is  youdoin  heer  Betsy  Collins  wid  your 
rad  eye  a  bunged  up  lak  yu  had  been  a  salting  a 
yellow  jackets  nest?  I'm  agwine  to  pospond  dis 
kase  twell  brudder  Tompson  arrivs  in  kote  und 
terry egates  de  complaint." 

"De  next  case  am  a  forsible  stenshion  kase  I'm 
gwine  ter  let  it  go  by  too." 

"Grate  King"  he  exclaimed  with  an  unjudicial 
gravtiy,  as  he  bent  his  spectacled  face  to  peruse  a 
name  upon  his  docket,  "dat  ar  name  retches  from 
de  Rappydan  to  de  Jeemes  rubber;  "  Willyum 
Abender  Dolbery  Bowzer  Indian  Ginrul  Mackin 
tosh.  Haint  dat  name  dun  und  fling  yo  back  outen 
jint?  I'm  ergwine  to  split  hit  rite  wide  open,  und 
den  I'm  gwine  to  wide  hit  up  agin.  Mouter  node 
yu  wnr  er  wagrant  ur  a  secesh  nigger  toting  dat 
secesh  name  und  all  dem  Federick  gyarments  lak 
yu  wuz  de  rare  eend  ob  de  bellion." 

"Whose  horg's  dat  yu  bin  gitting  yo  rashuns 
offer?"  the  judge  asked  with  a  fearful  grin,  and 
the  negro  prisoner  was  for  a  moment  confused, 
reasuring  himself  however  he  pleaded  "not  guilty" 
to  the  warrant  and  asked  that  his  case  might  be 
continued  until  his  old  master  could  be  subpoened. 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  145 

The  judge  looked  toward  the  prisoner  with  a 
scowl  as  he  observed,  "What's  dat  white  man's 
name?" 

"Ole  Marser's  named  arter  me,"  the  prisoner 
humbly  replied. 

"Ugh!  Ugh!"  said  the  judge  "Bats  a  sarcum- 
stance  agin  you."  I'm  ergwine  to  put  yu  whey 
dere  haint  ergwine  to  be  no  mo  sturbance  be 
twixt  yu  and  de  horgs.  Dis  heer  jedgment  is  er 
gwine  to  run  agin  yu  twell  dat  ar  horg  is  fetched 
into  de  kote:  und  hit  is  ergwine  to  run  in  de  name 
of  de  state." 

"Grate  Jarryko!"  exclaimed  Joshua  excitedly 
from  among  the  bystanders,  "dat  dere  jedgment 
ez  same  ez  er  surcle  in  de  warter,  hit  haint  got  no 
eend, Grate  King!'  dat  secesh  nigger  hez  dun  und  got 
hissef  shot  up  forever  und  all  dun  and  dun,  by  und 
twixt  him  urid  a  piney  woods  rooter  that  is  dun 
and  woured  up  fo  de  bellion  fell." 

"Dis  kote  is  gwine  to  rejourn  till  to  morrow 
mornin.  Make  de  pocklemashun,  officer." 

As  the  old  negro  judge  by  the  aid  of  his  staff 
was  shuffling  out  of  the  court  house  the  Colonel 
was  prompted  to  ask  him  why  he  had  been  rudely 
taken  from  his  home  and  brought  as  a  prisoner 
before  him.  The  old  negro  looked  at  the  Colonel 
in  a  furtive  way  as  he  replied  irritatingly. 
"De  kote  had  to  bate  de  trap  wid  one  warmint  ter 
catch  anudder  one."  And  thus  the  mountebanks 
and  harlequins  of  these  outrageous  times  were 
compounding  dynamite  in  their  laboratories  that 
would  ere  long  explode  under  their  feet. 
10 


146  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


HOME    AGAIN. 

Alice  felt  that  in  the  afflictive  dispensations  that 
were  from  day  to  day  scourging  the  poor  south, 
that  in  her  own  personal  trials  there  was  an  in 
scrutable  Providence  enacting  its  ordinances,  and 
by  and  by  the  '"end  would  justify  the  means." 
Great  and  simple  was  the  faith  of  this  beautiful 
child  of  the  sunny  south,  great  and  simple  her 
faith  in  the  unfailing  source  of  truth,  love,  and 
Divine  equity.  Great  was  her  faith  in  the  possi 
bilities  and  recuperative  power  of  a  country  that 
had  been  scathed  so  remorselessly  by  the  great 
storms  of  war.  She  had  thrown  around  her  life  a 
great  bulkhead  of  faith,  and  she  could  suffer  al 
most  uncomplainingly,  for  there  was  solace  in  tear* 
and  prayers  when  her  spiritual  discernment  brought 
her  face  to  face  with  Him  who  said,  "I'll  never 
leave  thee  nor  forsake  thee." 

After  the  arrest  of  her  father  she  retired  to  her 
chamber  for  a  short  communion  with  her  Savior, to 
whom  she  had  yielded  without  reserve  a  heart 
soon  to  be  cast  again  into  the  heated  furnace  of 
affliction.  She  came  out  of  her  room  to  respond  to 
a  feeble  knock  at  the  back  door,  and  she  opened 
it  to  admit  Clarissa.  Alice  saw  instantly  that 
something  had  gone  wrong  with  the  negro,  for 
there  were  great  tears  standing  in  her  liquid  eyes 
and  her  speech  was  broken  and  emotional. 

"Miss  Alice,"  she  exclaimed, amid  her  sobs  with 
her  black  face  buried  in  her  apron,  "Ole  Clarisy  is 
so  sorry,  deed  she  is  dat  she  trod  on  your  feelins, 
but  Ned  he  suaded  me  clare  outen  my  senses,  deed 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  147 

he  did  Missis,  und  I  declares  fore  my  Maker  in  hea- 
ben,  dat  when  dat  fool  nigger  spaciated  erbout  dem 
hosses  und  kerriges,  und  horg  und  horminy  pyan- 
nys  he  was  agwine  ter  fetch  home,  und  de  silk  um- 
brells  und  de  whoop  skeerts  und  sich  lak,  I  jes 
drapped  back  into  dat  nigger  busum  und  didn't 
see  Avun  bressed  fing  but  kerriges  und  hosses  or 
cummin  und  ergwine;  und  bress  yo  sole,  Miss  Alice, 
all  dat  nite  long  Ned  wasgwine  on  bout  dem  hosses 
und  piany  fortes  und  now  und  den  he  wud  drap  erf 
to  sleep,  und  den  I  heerd  him  hollow  to  Joshaway 
'Git  outen  de  way  wid  de  rones,  dese  heer  clay  banks 
is  ergwine  to  tak  dis  rode,'  Glang  Shurmans  ! 
Glang  Laflin!  und  fo  de  Lord  wun  time  dat  stractified 
nigger  pearched  hissef  pon  de  tip  eend  ob  de  bedsted 
und  hilt  on  to  de  postes  same  ez  a  poll-parrot  holler 
ing  wo  !  wo  !  wo  !  und  him  plum  fast  asleep;  und 
when  de  fust  lite  of  day  cum  I  heerd  him  er  coaxin 
ole  Saltpeter,  dats  our  ole  steer,  wid  a  moufful  of 
fodder,  und  den  he  hollered  to  me  to  fetch  de  blue 
chiss  to  put  de  munny  in  und  me  und  him  got  into 
de  steer  kyart  und  dat  ole  Saltpeter  jess  turned  his 
sef  loose  down  dat  rode  same  as  mars  Jon's  bay 
filly;  but  I  haint  neber  seed  no  munny  yet,  nor  de 
claybanks  nudder;  und  Ned  he  lowed  how  dat  de 
de  bero  man  dun  an  sed  dat  de  man  dat  was  fetch- 
in'  de  hosses  to  de  souf,  hed  done  und  tucked  de 
rong  rode,  und  mout  not  git  hcer  in  time  to  pitch 
de  crap,  but  dat  he  was  gwine  to  cum  sho,  und  I 
axed  Ned  ef  he  pinned  his  fafe  to  dat  man  und  de 
hosses,  und  day  er  straying  disserway  und  (latter- 
way  twixt  de  norf  and  de  souf  und  he  lo'w >d  dat  no 
body  cud  hit  de  rite  rode  all  de  time  kas^  de  bellion 
hed  dun  und  flung  all  de  rodes  outen  jint.'  Den  I 
ups  and  sezs,  I  nose  wun  rode  dat  haint  iiung  outen 
jint  und  dis  heer  foot  passenger  is  agwine  to  take 
hit  rite  back  to  de  grate  house;  und  heer  I  is  Miss 
Alice;  und  den  I  got  er  studdin  erbout  ole  Marser  und 


148  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

young  Missis  und  it  peared  lak  I  was  stobbing  dem 
to  de  hart  wid  a  pitchfork,  und  I  sez  to  mysef  sez 
I  Clarisy  is  yu  ergwine  ter  leave  dem  po  critters  in 
de  grate  house  wid  de  cussed  niggers  er  pirootmg 
froo  de  land?  I  dun  cum  back  now  Miss  Alice  to 
slave  fur  yu  und  ole  Marser  twell  I  die;  twell  de 
ark  angel  stretches  out  his  whings  and  taks  me  ter 
rest  in  his  busum.  I  know  I  was  a  stracted  fool 
when  I  drapped  the  kitchen  key  under  de  do,  but 
bress  your  hart  Miss  Alice  dar  is  sich  a  flustrashun 
all  ober  de  land,  de  niggers  lak  ragged  ruffins  er 
gwine  to  de  town  und  cummin  back  agin,  er  galli- 
pin  hosses  und  er  blowin  great  big  horns  pine  blank 
lak  dam  yaller  mornin  glories,  dat  I  is  so  pestered 
dat  I  don't  know  de  fo  eend  ob  de  grate  house  frum 
de  hind  eend."  "Is  you  been  in  de  kitchen  dis 
mornin  Miss  Alice?" 

"Oh  yes,"  replied  Alice,  "and  everything  is  tidy 
and  clean." 

"Is!"  ejaculated  Clarissa.  "Well  I'm  ergwine 
in  dar  und  cook  ole  marsa  sum  good  wittles  fur  I 
knows  he  ergwine  ter  be  most  perished  when  he 
comes.  Po  ole  marsa;  it  do  pear  lak  he  is  suckin 
sorrow  all  de  bressedtime;  to  be  sho  dis  wurrull  is 
turned  rong  side  outards;  ef  er  ark  angel  was  ter 
pearch  upon  de  tip  eend  ef  de  chimney  und  see  de 
ruinashun  of  dispo  souf  he  wud'nt  flop  his  whiugs 
but  wun  time  fo  he  wud  be  clean  outen  site,  dat  he 
wud'n't. 

The  coming  back  of  the  truant  servant  was  a 
bright  page  in  the  life  history  of  Alic^.  She  had 
been  so  sad,  so  lonely,  so  forsaken.  She  had  look 
ed  into  the  arching  sky  and  saw  nothing  there  but 
frowning  clouds;  she  had  introspected  her  poor 
heart  and  there  was  nothing  there  but  the  pictures 
of  the  dead;  she  thought  of  her  friends  and  saw 
only  grinning  phantoms.  Still  sowing  the  wind 
and  sowing,  sowing,  came  back  the  echo. 


THE   BROKEN    SWORD.  149 

She  went  into  the  parlor  and  seating  herself  at 
the  piano  thrummed  its  neglected  chords,  and  was 
ever  music  or  song  so  enrapturing.  Surely  an  in 
visible  choir  supplemented  her  sweet  voice.  She 
arose  from  the  piano  and  knelt  at  the  little*  altar 
to  pray  for  her  father,  who  was  at  that  moment  in 
the  hands  of  these  merciless  people;  who  like  Huns 
and  Vandals  were  riding  rough  shod  over  the  south 
arresting  arbitrarily  the  aged  men  whose  learning, 
experience  and  virtue  had  illustrated  its  civiliza 
tion  and  given  impulse  and  direction  to  its  gran 
deur  and  glory.  She  was  pleading  with  Him  who 
had  permitted  his  chosen  people  to  be  scourged  by 
the  lashes  of  the  Egyptian  task-masters;  pleading 
not  for  her  life  but  for  another  life,  that  like  the 
wasted  candle  would  flicker  a  little  longer  and  go 
out.  Alice  then  went  to  the  kitchen  and  found 
Clarissa  burnishing  the  tea  service. 

"Bress  yor  hart,  young  missis,"  Clarissa  said 
"you  allus  cums  lak  a  streak  o'  sunshine.  Ef  de 
clouds  was  a  drapping  rain  all  de  time  I  cud  see  de 
bressed  sun  er  shinin  when  yu'se  erbout." 

"I  thank  you  Clarissa,  but  I  don't  deserve  your 
compliments,"  Alice  replied.  "I  don't  feel  as  if  I 
could  cheer  any  one  or  make  one  human  heart  light 
or  happy  "What  will  they  do  with  father  Clar 
issa?"  she  continued. 

"De  good  Lord  in  heaben  only  knows,  missis." 
Pears  lak  dey  ez  wouring  dat  po  man  up  vvid  leetle 
moufuls  at  de  time,  and  he  so  innosen  too." 

"Poor  father,"  she  said  to  herself.  "I  have  been 
made  very  strong  by  a  refreshing  influence.  If  you 
could  only  place  your  burdens  upon  me  until  I  be 
came  wearied  like  yourself,  I  would  be  so  happy." 

At  twilight  the  old  man,  foot  sore  and  exhausted, 
tottered  into  the  verandah  very  much  in  the  spirit 
of  Cataline  "nursing  wrrath  and  breathing  mischief." 
"How  uniform  in  all  ages,"  he  vehemently  exclaim- 


150  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

ed,  "are  the  workings  of  tyranny;  how  plausible  its 
pretexts;  how  detestable  its  purposes!  I  have 
thought  of  death  and  felt  no  fear  when  I  invited 
him  to  come  and  to  come  quickly;  buc  I  beseech 
the  great  God  now  that  he  will  spare  me  to  behold 
my  people  rising  in  their  majesty,  with  a  consti 
tutional  exercise  of  their  power,  to  expel  these 
barbarians  from  the  country;  to  preserve  our  laws, 
our  peace,  our  humanity;  and  to  sustain  the  liber 
ties  of  the  people  against  the  imminent  perils  to 
which  they  stand  exposed." 

He  knew  that  he  was  powerless  against  that 
oppression  that  lacked  every  resource  of  intellect 
ual  vigor;  he  knew  that  whatever  indignities  were 
offered  to  person  or  property  were  condoned  or  ex 
cused;  he  knew  that  the  manhood  of  the  South 
was  suffering  a  social  attaint. 

He  told  his  daughter  as  best  he  could  his  humil 
iating  experiences  with  interjections  and  volleys  of 
wrath;  how  that  when  he  was  confronted  by  a 
black  savage  in  the  court  he  was  told  with  fiend 
ish  laughter  that  the  officer  "had  fetched  the 
rong  man,"  "dat  de  state  had  no  charge  agin  him, 
but  it  rnout  hab  fore  he  lef  de  town."  Scarcely  had 
the  clear  sun  begun  to  overlook  the  trees  the  next 
morning  when  the  negro  officer  again  presented 
himself  at  the  door  with  a  requisition  for  Mr.  Sey 
mour. 

"Yu  is  ordered  ter  kote  ergin,"  the  negro  de 
manded.  "The  jedge  sed  how  dat  he  made  er  mis 
take  yestiddy  und  sent  de  rong  man  ter  jail." 

"  Let  me  see  your  warrant,"  Colonel  Seymour 
sternly  asked. 

"If  yu  fetches  a  witnis  I'll  read  de  warrant," 
the  ignorant  brute  replied. 

Clarissa  who  was  dusting  the  furniture  in  the 
hall,  overhearing  an  animated  conversation  between 
her  old  master  and  the  negro  officer,  peeped  out  of 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  151 

the  door  when  the  negro  saw  her  and  commanded 
her  to  come  to  him. 

To  go  or  to  run,  that  was  the  question  with 
Clarissa,  but  she  made  a  virtue  of  necessity  and 
timidly  obeyed  the  order. 

"Hold  up  your  right  hand,  yu  po  nigger  trash," 
the  negro  exclaimed. 

"Oh  Lordy,  Mr.  jedge,  what  has  I  dun  und  dun?" 
cried  Clarissa;  "Ergwine  to  de  jail  house  fur  nuffin 
in  dis  wurrul,  me  und  ole  marsa;  uud  what  is  er- 
g»ine  ter  cum  ob  miss  Alice?" 

"Hole  your  old  mouf,  I  haint  ergwine  ter  hurt 
yu.  Stand  rite  dar  as  de  witnis  und  den  you  is 
deescharged,"  and  with  that  he  took  from  his  poc 
ket  a  dirty  yellow  paper  and  began  to  spell  out  its 
contents. 

The  officer  patronizingly  remarked  to 
Colonel  Seymour  as  he  was  seating  himself  in  the 
buggy,  "I  can  gib  yu  er  ride  to  de  kote  ef  yu  will 
excep  of  my  sability."  The  Colonel  thanked  him, 
for  his  gouty  joints  were  rebelling.  By  a  cruel  in 
exorable  law  of  gravitation  the  old  man  was  sink 
ing  from  the  level  of  a  man  to  the  condition  of  a 
slave.  Alighting  at  the  court  house  he  was  morti 
fied  to  see  a  white  man  aud  a  negro  handcuffed  to 
gether  walking  in  the  court  room,  in  the  custody 
of  another  negro  officer.  As  he  walked  toward  the 
black  judge,  a  score  of  brutish  negroes  cried  out 
"Yander  is  dat  ole.secesh,  he'e  ergwine  to  git  jes- 
tis  now." 

"Fetch  Mr.  Seymour  fore  me,  sar,"  commanded 
the  judge;  whar  is  squire  Wiggins  und  his  affidavy? 

"Mr.  Seymour,  yu  is  sensed  of  interruptin  de 
squire  heer  in  de  joyment  ob  his  social  pribileges, 
and  dis  kote  has  found  yu  gilty.  Let  dis  prisner 
be  found  er  hundred  dollars  und  ef  yu 
haint  got  dat  much  munny  handy,  de  kote  will 
•change  de  jedgement  und  send  yu  ter  jail." 


152  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

The  Colonel  had  no  difficulty  in  finding  a  friend 
who  advanced  for  him  the  amount  of  the  fine  and 
he  sought  the  carpet  bagger  Laflin  to  ask  his  pro 
tection  against  future  indignities.  The  name  Laf 
lin  stank  in  the  nostrils  of  an  outraged  people. 
This  free  rover  of  reconstruction  was  shameless 
and  conscienceless;  the  marplot  of  every  conserva 
tive  sentiment  conceived  for  the  betterment  of  the 
people;  a  human  ogre  with  bat  one  eye  that  fixed 
its  stare  upon  the  dollar  whether  enveloped  in  a 
tattered  rag  or  a  silken  purse.  The  Colonel  saw 
this  man  as  he  was  coming  out  of  a  low  groggery 
arm  in  arm  with  negroes.  "Can  I  speak  to  you 
sir,"  he  replied? 

Laflin  turned  fiercely  upon  him  with  the  inter 
rogatory. 

"Who  are  you  sir,  and  what  is  your  business?" 

"I  am  Mr.  Seymour,  and  my  business  is  to  ask 
your  protection." 

"Ah  indeed,  you  are  the  rebel  who  has  been 
giving  our  people  so  much  trouble."  the  brute 
replied. 

"I  am  sure  you  do  not  wish  to  annoy  an  old  man 
who  is  trying  to  live  peaceably  at  home." 

"Yes.  I  do  sir,  and  I  will  hear  nothing  more 
from  an  infamous  villain  like  you." 

"My  people  white  and  black  have  my  authority 
to  do  as  they  will;  to  insult  and  assault  rebels  and 
to  make  reprisals  whenever  they  think  proper." 

Thus  day  by  day  the  uncrowned  satraps  were 
collecting  material  for  the  coming  carnival  of  vice 
and  crime. 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  153 


CHAPTER    XIII. 


A  KNIGHT  OF  THE  WHITE  CAMELIA. 

At  early  dawn  in  the  language  of  the  excited 
servant,  "Dere  is  sich  a  flustration  agwine  on  out- 
en  old  misses  flower  gyarden  as  I  never  seed  in  my 
born  days." 

With  this  exclamation  her  young  mistress  was 
aroused  from  her  slumber  by  the  old  negro  as  she 
knocked  violently  at  the  door  of  her  bed  chamber 
in  a  state  of  great  perturbation. 

"Fur  de  land  sake  !  Miss  Alice  if  yu  wants  to 
see  a  sho  nuff  harricane  run  outen  here  as  peart 
as  yer  ken.  De  stracted  niggers  big  und  leetle  has 
finely  tuck  de  plantashun.  Oh  my  sole,  de  heabens 
and  de  yearth  has  cum  togedder!" 

Alice  rushed  to  the  window  and  was  horrified  at 
the  sight  before  her.  She  heard  a  jargon  of  bois 
terous  defiant  noises  graduated  from  inarticulate 
sounds  to  higher  and  varying  keys  with  occasion 
al  snatches  of  a  disgusting  song  in  falsetto. 

"We  de  bosses  is  er  gwine  to  be, 

Kase  ole  Lincura  dun  set  us  free, 

In  de  year  of  Jubilo." 

She  saw  to  her  disgust  and  mortification  a  score 
or  two  of  negro  children  romping  like  cattle 
through  her  sainted  mother's  flower  garden.  They 
were  plucking  the  dahlias  and  roses  and  other  va 
rieties  of  flowers  with  ruthless  hands,  and  blowing 
their  petals  hither  and  thither  with  their  vile 
breath  into  the  air.  Such  desecration  was  never 
dreamed  of  by  Alice  and  she  spoke  angrily  to  the 


154  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

disgusting  little  vagrants  and  attempted  to  drive 
them  from  the  premises. 

uYer  jes  shet  yer  ole  mouf,  dats  what,  ole  po 
white  trash.  Us  yung  uns  haint  eben  er  studdin 
you.  Is  us  Maria  ?" 

"Dat  us  aint,"  pertly  responded  Maria.  "Yers 
ole  po  white  trash,  dats  what  my  farder  and  my 
mudder  ses  you  is,  and  us  cullud  ladies  haint  er- 
gwine  to  mess  wid  you  nary  bit  und  grane.  Us  is 
agwine  to  pull  all  dese  ole  flowers  und  fling  em  on  de 
groun,  und  us  aint  er  skert  of  nary  ole  skeer-crow 
lak  yer  is  nudder." 

And  with  these  sundry  and  divers  exclamations, 
Maria  and  Susan  joined  hands  and  danced  a 
break-down  upon  the  flower  beds,  while  the 
other  negro  children  big  and  little  clapped  hands 
and  sang  in  shrill  piping  notes  another  stanza  of 
the  song. 

"De  hellion  it  if  dun  u>  d  fell, 
Und  ole  Marsa  is    gon  to — well, 
lu  de  year  of  Jubilo." 

Alice  attempted  again  to  drive  them  away  with 
her  father's  cane,  when  they  aligned  themselves  in 
positions  of  attack,  and  with  brick-bats,  fragments 
of  slate  and  glass  and  other  weapons  of  improvised 
battle  challenged  in  angry  volleys. 

"We's  jes  dars  yu  to  put  yer  ole  foot  outen  dat 
do  und  we'll  mash  yer  hed  wid  er  brick,"  and 
with  that  one  of  the  missiles  went  crashing 
through  the  imported  plate  glass  of  the  front 
door,  when  the  wicked  vermin  scampered  away 
with  the  warning  cry. 

"Dey  is  er  cummin,  Dey  is  er  cummin,  looker 
dare,  looker  dare,"  and  hid  around  chimney  cor 
ners  and  among  the  brick  underpinning. 

Clarissa  had  viewed  proceedings  from  the  win 
dow  of  the  kitchen  with  as  much  interest  as  though 
it  were  a  battle  of  real  blood  and  thunder,  and  run- 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  .      155 

ning  out  of  a  door  around  a  corner  where  she  saw 
the  kinky  head  of  "Sofy  Ann"  peeping,  she  seized 
her  by  her  hair  and  soused  her  over  head  and  ears, 
in  a  hogshead  tilled  with  rain  water  that  stood 
near  the  kitchen  "Fo  Gord!"  she  exclaimed,  "I 
don't  know  whedder  to  drown  yer  outen  out  ur  to 
baptize  yer  hed  fomost.  I'm  gwine  to  wash  offen 
yer  sins  ef  I  nebber  duz  no  mo,"  and  she  kept 
ducking  the  liltle  nigger  until  she  was  "moest 
drowned  sho  miff."  "Dar,  now,  I'm  agwine  to 
turn  yer  loose  dis  time,  yer  imp  of  Satun;  jest  let 
me  ketch  yer  wun  mo  time  in  ole  missis  flower 
garden  lak  er  hoss  wid  de  blind  staggers,  und  yer 
fokes  will  hab  to  sen  fur  de  crowner.  Take  yersef 
clean  clear  outen  my  site,  yer  pizened  .varmint." 
The  little  negro,  blubbering,  spitting,  coughing 
and  bellowing,  sneaked  away  toward  the  office 
looking  back  with  savage  glances,  with  eyes  that 
stood  out  like  a  lobster's. 

At  this  point  of  time  the  sound  of  wheels  was 
heard  down  the  roadway  and  going  to  the  door 
Alice  saw  a  lady  of  uncertain  age  with  a  very  keen 
aspect,  smartly  dressed,  alighting  from  a  road  cart. 
As  she  was  approaching  the  door  Alice  at  once 
recognized  her  as  the  lady  who  accompanied  Mr. 
Jamieson,  the  Englishman,  to  the  mansion  only  a 
short  time  before  and  whom  that  gentleman  had 
addressed  as  his  niece. 

"Will  you  give  me  the  key  to  the  office,  Miss  ?" 
she  asked  pertly  addressing  Alice. 

"Now,  dearies,"  she  called  to  the  negro  children 
who  had  gathered  suspiciously  around  her,  "Just 
go  to  the  schoolroom;  I  will  be  with  you  directly." 

"Will  you  give  me  the  key  to  the  office  Miss?" 
she  asked  this  time  with  much  emphasis. 

"Indeed,  I  have  no  control  over  the  office,  it  is 
my  father's,  madam,  and  he  has  his  books  and 
papers  in  it  and 'doesn't  wish  them  disturbed." 


J» 


156  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

"My  father  is  not  in  the  house  just  now.  Perhaps 
you  had  better  wait  until  he  returns." 

"Oh,  indeed,  miss,  I  carn't,  I  am  a  bit  late  just 
now,  and  I  must  be  prompt,  miss,  or  I  shall  lose 
my  position.  It  doesn't  matter  about  your  father's 
books  and  papers,  miss,  that  is  a  trifle;  I  guess  I 
can  find  a  place  for  the  books  and  papers  if  you  do 
not  choose  to  remove  them  yourself.  Get  a  move  on 
you,  Miss,  if  you  please,  as  I  remarked,  I  am  a  bit 
late  this  forenoon." 

"I  do  not  wish  to  give  you  the  key,  madam," 
again  replied  the  girl,  "What  is  your  business  up 
on  my  father's  premises  unbidden?" 

"Ah,  indeed,  what  impudence!  Did  I  ever,  1 
guess  you  will  find  out  quickly,  miss  !  "Will  you 
give  me  the  key  miss,  or  shall  I  drive  home  again 
and  report  you  to  Mr.  Laflinf '  The  name  Laflin 
was,  figuratively  speaking,  the  burglars  tool  that 
unlocked  every  door  in  this  populous  county. 
With  many  wicked  thoughts  Alice  delivered  the 
key  to  the  school-mistress  and  with  her  arms 
aronnd  tbe  necks  of  two  negro  girls  she  trooped  off 
to  the  office;  the  door  was  opened  and  into  the 
room  the  mistress  and  pupils  entered. 

"Oh,  dear,  dear,  dear,!  exclaimed  the  school 
marm  piteously.  Whatever  shall  I  do  with  all 
this  rubbish?  Come  here,  dear  gyurls  and  boys,  be 
a  bit  lively  and  remove  these  disgusting  old  things. 
Take  them  to  the  lady  of  the  house;  I  guess  she 
will  know  what  to  do  with  thein.  We  carn't  have 
thes  trifles  in  the  school  room;  no  indeed  we  carn't" 
and  pell-mell,  helter  skelter,  topsy  turvey,  books, 
periodicals  and  papers  were  thrust  out  of  doors  in 
to  boxes,  barrels,  anything,  anywhere  as  if  they 
were  so  many  burglars  ''taken  in  the  act." 

Poor  Alice  cried  and  sobbed;  but  a  new  regime 
was  fast  crowding  out  the  memory  of  the  olden 
days,  it  was  the  welding  of  an  intermediate  link 


THE    BIIOKEN    SWORD.  157 

between   the   waning  and  the   waxing  —  the   dis 
appearing  and  the  appearing  civilizations. 

"Now,  deargyurls  and  boys,"  said  the  mistress 
"Take  your  seats.  I  guess  we  will  begin/' Charlie, 
come  here,  dear.  You  are  a  sweet  lit t If  hoy  and  I 
guess  your  mamma  thinks  so,  too.  How  old  are 
you,  dear? 

"Seben,  agwine  in  leben,"  answered  the  little 
black  urchin  quickly. 

"Who  made  you,  Charlie?" 

"Who  made  me?"  repeated  the  little  negro  sau 
cily. 

"Yes,  who  made  you?" 

"Oh  I  dunno,  dat  dere  boy  dere  sez  ole  satan 
made  meundhim  too." 

"Oh,  the  precious  little  heathen,"  exclaimed  the 
school  marm,  discouragingly,  "Did  you  ever  hear 
of  God?"  she  asked  again. 

"Yes  mum,  I  dun  und  seed  him  wun  time,  when 
me  und  Jake  wus  a  rabbit  huntin." 

"Oh  dear,  dear,  dear!  AVhere  did  you  see  God? 
And  what  was  he  like?"  she  asked. 

"Seed  him  down  de  crick,"  answered  the  negro 
smartly. 

"What  was  he  like?" 

"What  wus  he  lak?"  echoed  Charlie,  digging  in 
to  his  pockets  with  both  hands  and  standing  upon 
one  barefoot.  "Lak  a  jacker  lantern  cum  outen  de 
groun." 

"What  became  of  him?"  asked  the  lady. 

"What  cum  of  him?"  asked  Charlie  "He  tiewed 
clean  erway,"  answered  Charlie  as  smartly  as  be 
fore. 

"Oh  my  dear,  dear,  child,  what  is  to  become  of 
you!"  she  exclaimed  disparagingly.  "Susan,  come 
here,  my  pretty  gyurl,"  called  the  lady.  "Oh! 
how  pretty  are  your  sparkling  jetty  eyes,"  she  ex- 


158  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

claimed  as  she  turned  up  the  little  negro's  face  to 
kiss  her.  "Now  dear,  how  old  are  you?" 

"Me!"  asked  the  girl,  "I's  furteen  gvvine  in  fo- 
teen." 

"'And  now  tell  me  who  made  you?" 

"Who  made  me!"  echoed  the  child,  "Oh,  I  fort 
yu  axed  dat  ar  boy  who  made  him,"  she  answered 
with  a  broad  smile. 

"So  I  did;  now  I  wish  to  know  who  made  you?" 

'I  aint  no  kin  to  dat  ar  boy,  kase  his  daddy  aint 
got  but  wun  eye  und  my  daddy  has  got  too  eyes." 

"Who  made  you,  child?" 

"Ho,  I  furgot,"  replied  Susan  "Gord  made  me." 

"That  is  correct,"  answered  the  teacher,  "Now 
what  did  God  make  you  out  of?" 

k*Outen?"  again  replied  Susan,"  "Oh,  outen  las 
ses  candy.  My  mudder  says  kase  I  's  so  sweet." 

"Dear,  dear,  dear,  shall  I  give  entirely  up?"  ex 
claimed  the  discomfited  lady.  "Shall  I  try  again? 
yes,  perhaps  I  shall  find  a  little  leaven  directly." 
"Come  here  Willie;  I  can  see  from  your  bright 
face  that  you  are  a  smart  little  boy.  Now  tell  me 
did  you  ever  hear  of  the  rebellion?" 

"Belliun?"  echoed  Willie  as  he  thrust  bis  lingers 
into  his  mouth  and  out  again  with  a  pop  that  made 
the  children  titter.  "Neber  heerd  ob  nuffin  else 
epseps  de  belliun." 

"What  is  a  traitor,  dear  boy?" 

"Tater?"  "What  sort  er  tater,  sweet  tator  ur 
Orish  tater?"  enquired  Willie. 

"Perhaps  I  may  teach  the  little  heathen  to  un 
derstand,"  said  the  school  marm,  suggestively. 
"AVillie,"  she  asked  "What  do  you  call  that  gentle 
man  who  lives  in  that  line  house  over  the  way?" 

"Calls  him!"  again  repeated  Willie,  "I  calls 
him  po  white  trash;  what  dos  yer  call  him?" 

"Oh  dear,  dear,  dear,,"  screamed  the  teacher 
utterly  bewildered.  One  more  time  she  exclaimed 


THE    BROKEN    SWOHD.  159 

"James,  come  here,"  and  another  little  negro  as 
black  as  tar  with  one  eye  closed  by  a  great  knot 
upon  it  came  forward."  "What  is  the  matter, 
James,  with  your  face?" 

"Umph!"  grunted  James,  "Specks  if  yer  seed 
whar  I  been  you'd  know  'dout  axin.  Dat  ar  boy 
has  been  scrougin  me  lak  I  wus  a  trabball.' 

"James,  if  you  are  a  bad  boy  do  you  know  where 
you  will  go  when  you  die?"  asked  the  lady. 

"Umph,"  exclaimed  James,  "Ihainteben  a  stud- 
din  erbout  which  erway  I'm  a  gwice  arter  I  die. 
I'm  studdin  which  erway  I'm  erg  wine  arter  I  git 
outen  dat  ar  do.  See  dat  ar  boy  a  shaking  he 
hed?"  "He  sez  how  dat  ef  I  cum  by  his  mudders 
house  agwine  to  my  mudders  house  he's  agwine 
to  scrouge  me  sum  mo,  und  I'm  skeert  to  go 
tuther  way." 

"One  other  question"  (half  aside),  "James,  if  you 
live  to  be  a  man  what  are  you  going  to  do  for  a  liv 
ing" 

"Gwine  to  do?"  said  James,  "I'm  agwine  to  be 
a  Iyer,  so  I  kin  set  in  ke  kote  house  und  sass  de 
jedge."  And  thus  the  farce  went  on  day  after  day 
under  the  shadow  of  Ingleside. 

Clarissa  caught  a  depredating  urchin  trying  to 
stand  upon  his  head  in  a  half-filled  barrel  of  crush 
ed  sugar  in  the  pantry  and  said  to  herself  "You 
stays  dar  twell  I  get  me  er  plank,"  and  creeping 
like  a  cat  back  again,  and  taking  a  fresh  purchase 
on  the  board,  she  came  down  upon  "de  middle 
ships  of  dat  dar  ar  yungun  lak  er  buzzum  of  struc- 
tion;  pend  upon  it,  Miss  Alice,  dat  ar  niggar  is  er 
flying  twill  yit  wid  sweetnin  nuff  to  last  twell  de 
July  flies  cum  agin." 

"This  nest  of  dirt-daubers,"  as  Colonel  Seymour 
fitly  described  the  school,  became  a  nuisance  that 
must  be  abated  by  hook  or  crook.  The  law- 
was  nothing  more  than  a  great  stalking  shadow. 


160  THE    BKOKENSWORD. 

"If  I  could  only  secure  the  services  of  Jake 
Flowers  the  regulator,"  ''thought  the  old  man, 
he  and  I  shall  be  a  law  unto  ourselves." 

This  was  the  man  whom  Colonel  Seymour  desired 
as  his  file  leader  upon  the  drill  ground  when  the 
stalking  shadow  of  the  law  failed  to  keep  time  to 
the  music,  a  law  unto  himself,  whose  forum  should 
be  "thar  or  tharabouts"  on  the  Ingleside  planta 
tion. 

Jake  Flowers  the  regulator  ha<3  violated  a  law  of 
the  Sabbath  by  working  out  some  devilish  inven 
tion,  which,  he  observed  with  satisfaction,  to  his 
wife,  would  keep  the  coroner  sitting  upon  corpses 
until  "the  craps  were  smartly  out  of  the  grass." 
The  regulator  stood  in  the  open  door,  looking  out 
upon  the  great  sheets  of  water  that  were  falling 
from  the  clouds.  As  he  stood  in  his  muddy  boots, 
with  both  hands  deep  down  into  his  pockets,  his 
carrotty  hair  in  great  shocks  standing  out  of  a 
crownless  hat  as  if  an  electric  current  had  just 
passed  through  it,  he  was  picturesque  in  the  ex 
treme." 

"Sally  Ann!"  he  exclaimed  "I  am  thinking." 

"Well,  think  agen,"  Sally  Ann  answered  tartly, 
"That  mout  fetch  back  old  Nance  and  the  bid 
dies."  Sally  Ann  had  been  pouting  ever  since 
Jake  went  to  jail  for  the  loss  of  her  setting  hen 
and  the  chicks. 

"You  haint  got  no  call  to  go  back  on  me,  on  the 
occasion  of  the  old  hen  and  the  nigger,"  said  Jake 
seriously."  Hit  wus  providence  or  hit  wus  the 
gnvement,and  twixt  the  two  they  has  got  a  mighty 
prejudy  agen  a  poor  man;  when  hit  comes  ter 
shullikin  and  pilferen  they  is  hard  to  hender. 
Weuns  haint  no  more  than  dandy  -  lions  inthe 
path  of  the  harrycane;  leastwise  weuns  kaint  hit 
back. 

"Nor  hit  haint    providence;    nor  hit   haint  the 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  161 

guvement,  nor  hit  kaint  prejudy,"  Sally  Ann  re 
plied  angrily  "Hit  are  pine  blank  cussedness.  Some 
folks  is  onnery  Jake,  and  it  is  like  the  swamp-ager, 
hit  is  powerful  raging  when  the  crap  is  knee-deep 
in  the  grass.  I  shouldn't  wonder  nary  bit  and  grain 
if  Andy's  crap  aint  in  the  yallers  same  as  ourn." 
This  was  said  very  provokingly,  and  Jake  felt  the 
sting  of  the  reproof. 

"Jeminy  -  cracky!''  he  exclaimed  in  a  passion, 
"Harkee  Sally,  hit  is  tit  fur  tat;  be  ye  a  pinin 
fur  another  fellow?" 

"Why  I  guess  maybe — I  reckon — 1  mout  assist 
yu'uns, leastwise  I  haint  a  going  to  stand  in  yu'uns- 
way."  The  regulator  looked  down  as  by  accident 
into  the  cradle :  there  was  the  sleeping  babe,  the 
pledge  of  a  love  that  had  been  hedged  in  all  these 
days  by  privations,  and  his  heart  went  out  toward 
his  wife  with  the  old  time  affection. 
*'Naw  Sally  Ann"  he  exclaimed  with  a  husky  voice, 
"Weuns  kaint  part  when  there  is  no  one  to  come  be 
twixt  us;  weuns  kaint  say  goodbye  twell  yuuns  is 
on  yon  side  of  the  river." 

The  roses  had  faded  out  of  the  cheek  of  his 
wife,  but  there  was  the  old-fashioned  sparkle  in 
her  eye;  there  was  the  old  time  love  in  her  heart, 
crossed  sometimes  by  the  perverse  nature  of  her 
lord  and  master. 

"Haiat  you  made  your  will  Jake,''  asked  Sally- 
Ann  half  seriously. 

"Naw  is  you  skeert  honey?" 

"Andy  has  done  and  made  hissen  and  fetched  it 
over  here  to  read  last  Sunday  when  you  wus  gone 
to  the  mash  and  hit  read  like  scriptur." 

"Jake  had  been  envious  of  Andy  Yose  for  some 
time.  When  the  need  of  the  country  for  men  good 
and  true  had  been  most  urgent,  Vose  had  deserted 
to  the  ranks  of  the  enemy,  and  now  he  counted  his 
flocks  and  herds  bv  the  score.  Jake  was  also  jeal- 
11 


162  THE   BROKEN    SWORD. 

ous  of  the  attentions  the  scalawag  was  from  time  to 
time  showing  his  young  wife;  these  visits  occurred 
most  frequently  in  the  absence  of  the  regulator,, 
and  these  intrusions  as  he  felt  they  were,  gave 
him  alarm.  After  reflection,  Jake  concealing  his 
suspicions  remarked  with  apparent  unconcern, 
"Read  like  scriptur,  I'll  be  dorg  gone!"  "I  haint 
got  no  call  to  make  a  will  like  Andy,  honey.  De 
nigger  officer  levelled  on  old  Nance  and  the  biddies, 
and  the  live  stock  has  run  plum  out  epsepting  the 
babe  and  it  is  yourn  any  way  honey." 

This  man  was  a  terror  to  the  freedmen.  They  had 
a  tradition  among  themselves  that  the  very  last  seen 
of  the  regulator  until  after  the  war  was  over  was 
his  ascension  in  a  cloud  of  fire  and  smoke  into  "de 
elements'  holding  fast  to  a  dead  negro.  Jake  said 
that  this  was  "pintedly"  true,  but  that  he  came 
down  again  as  his  captain  was  going  up  who  told 
him  when  he  had  fairly  lit  to  "charge  bayonets."  In 
the  language  of  the  plains  this  Jake  Flowers  was 
an  "eye  opener.  '  His  personal  attractions  he  said 
had  been  spoilt  by  the  blamed  war.  I  am  not  sure 
that  the  name  of  Jake  Flowers  appears  upon  the 
bloody  roster  of  battles  lost  and  won;  but  for  his 
doings  at  the  Crater  fight,  so  Jake  has  observed, 
historians  would  have  reversed  the  incidents  of 
that  bloody  day. 

He  claimed  always  to  be  the  "  Survival  of  the 
Fittest''  and  with  the  blind  faith  of  the  Moslem  he 
believed  that  th^rewas  a  "Providence  that  shapes 
our  ends,  rough  hew  them  as  we  may." 

His  favorite  posture  whenever  animated  was  as 
follows;  he  would  sit  with  his  right  leg  crossed 
over  his  left,  gently  swaying  his  foot,  with  his 
bearded  chin  resting  reposefully  in  the  palm  of 
his  hand,  with  the  fore  and  middle  finger  forming 
the  letter  V  and  pressed  to  his  lips;  through  which 
he  would  now  and  then  expectorate;  the  man  was 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  163 

also  spavined  in  the  right  knee  joint  that  caused 
him  to  walk  like  a  sailor  on  his  "sea  legs."  Like 
other  men  he  had  his  delusions  and  whether  good 
or  evil,  they  were  the  rule  of  action  of  his  life. 
Jake  was  the  reinforcement  vehemently  demanded 
in  this  conjuncture.  ''With  the  regulator  armed 
and  equipped,  the  enemy  will  flee  without  taking 
order  as  to  its  line  cf  march,  thought  the  old  man.'' 

"I  am  utterly  bewildered;  can  you  help  me  Mr. 
Flowers  to  drive  these  vermin  from  my  home?"  he 
asked  the  regulator. 

"Wall,  now,  drawled  the  regulator,  I  reckon  I 
mout  ef  I  am  not  pestered  urnuthing;  which  eend 
do  yer  expect  me  to  take  holt  off 

Jake  gave  an  extra  motion  to  his  spavined  leg 
and  looked  up  quizzically  into  the  rigid  face  of  the 
old  man. 

"Clfean  them  out  sir,  root  and  branch,  if  you 
will,  sir  !''  exclaimed  the  Colonel. 

"Prezactly  so,"  ejaculated  the  regulator,  "Pre- 
zactly  so,"  he  reiterated.  "Does  yer  mean  it  pine 
blank,  mister?''  he  again  asked. 

"Yes,  yes,  emphatically  I  do,"  responded  Colonel 
Seymour. 

"Drat  my  buttons  if   the   thing  haint  done  and 
did!'    the  regulator  answered  with  emphasis  and 
taking  his  leave  observed,  "I  11  see  you  later,  mis 
ter." 

"If  I  kin  regulate  this  kentry  as  it  had  orter  to 
be  did,  there  wont  be  a  biggerty  nigger  twixt  here 
and  Filadelfy,"  and  he  passed  into  a  little  copse 
of  woods  that  skirted  his  own  humble  domain. 

The  autumn  days  had  come — Nature  was  pre 
paring  a  more  elaborate  toilet  in  her  great  boudoir 
— replenishing  her  exhausted  stock  of  aromatics 
to  besprinkle  the  fields  and  forests,  the  glades  and 
the  hills;  painting  the  leaves  with  irridescent  tints 
and  even  the  sky  with  a  mellow, refreshing  beauty; 


164  THE    BROKEN    SWOKD. 

and  in  this  excess  of  toil.  Alice  saw  the  handiwork 
of  Him  who  holds  in  the  palm  of  His  hand  this 
great  sphere. 

She  looked  upward  to  the  twinkling  stars  and  it 
seemed  to  her  as  if  God  had  relumed  the  heavens 
with  a  brightly  diffused  glow  of  love.  God  the 
Creator  and  man  the  creature — the  Sovereign  and 
the  rebel,  brought  into  apposition  with  each  other 
through  the  supernal  harmonies  of  His  universal 
realm. 

But  the  child  was  sad  this  beautiful  October 
night.  The  birds  were  nodding  quietly  in  the  old 
rookery;  there  was  no  music  in  the  air,  for  the 
winds  under  a  coverlid  of  emerald  and  amber  and 
carmine  had  gone  fast  to  sleep  in  the  trees,  and 
the  tintinnabulation  of  the  little  bells  in  the  mea 
dows  had  ceased  altogether. 

"If  I  could  whisper  to  the  stars  what  I  would  like 
to  have  them  know  of  my  unhappy  life  they  would 
sympathize  and  perhaps  they  would  whisper  back. 

"Poor  forlorn  child  !   How  we  pity  you!" 

"Tomorrow,'1  she  said  reflectively,  "I  shall  be 
twenty-four  years  of  age,  and  oh,  how  all  encom 
passing  has  been  the  evil.  Every  picture  that 
glides  athwart  my  heart  is  broken:  every  idol  that 
I  have  fondly  loved  is  nothing  more  than  an  effigy. 
Delusions  follow  delusions;  what  is  life  but  a  bur 
den*  If  we  look  forward  there  are  demons:  if  we 
look  backward  there  are  coffins.'' 

The  poor  wearied  girl,  sad  and  without  hope, fell 
asleep  in  her  mother's  chair  as  softly  as  if  the  an 
gels  were  rocking  the  dear  old  chair  and  singing 
the  old  nursery  lullabies;  they  must  have  kissed 
her  heavy  eyelids  down;  so  profound,  so  tranquil 
was  her  slumber. 

When  she  awoke  the  little  birds  were  singing  as 
cheerily  all  around  her  in  the  magnolias  and  oaks 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  165 

as  if  their   litle   tongues   were   touched   with  the 
spirit  of  her  happy  dreams. 

The  cloud  that  overcast  her  face  was  gone  and 
she  went  into  the  kitchen  where  Clarissa  was  ab 
sorbed  in  her  duties. 

Clarissa  exclaimed  as  she  entered  the  kitchen, 
"Miss  Alice,  whar  in  de  name  ob  commun  sense 
has  yer  been  all  dis  time?  Here  I's  been  a  cummun 
and  erg  wine,  a  ransackin  dis  house  high  and  low 
fur  yer.  Didn't  yer  heer  me  callin  yer,  missis?  I 
spishuned  yar  wus  in  ole  marser  s  room  fast 
asleep." 

Alice  was  obliged  to  confess,  a  little  shamefaced 
ly,  that  she  had  fallen  asleep  in  the  little  alcove  in 
the  verandah  and  had  slept  so  soundly  that  she 
heard  no  noises  until  awakened  by  the  twittering 
of  the  birds  in  the  over-arching  bower. 

"Sakes  alive,  missis,"  exclaimed  Clarissa  "sum 
ob  dese  nites  a  grate  big  snake  is  ergwine  to  drap 
rate  down  into  yer  lap  und  sting  yer  moest  to  def . 
How  dos  yer  feel  missis  arter  dis  toxication?'' 
the  negress  asked  solicitously. 

"Quite  well,  I  thank  you,  Clarissa,  my  sleep 
was  ever  so  refreshing,"  replied  Alice  smilingly. 

"What  does  yer  fink  dem  pizened  yung  war- 
mints  dud  and  dun  yestiddy?  Yu  knowed  ole 
Bob  Sal,  dat  ar  ole  fafeful  mousin  cat  of  ourn? 
Whar  yer  fink  I  foun  dat  po  ole  cat,  missis?" 

"I  am  sure  I  do  not  know,  Clarissa,  I  hope  the 
negroes  have  not  hurt  him,"  answered  Alice. 

"Deed  they  has  too!  Drowned  to  def  in  de  hogs 
head,  wid  a  brick  tied  erround  him.  Dey  is  de 
outdaciousest  yunguns  I  ebber  seed  in  my  born 
days.  Dere  haint  no  telling  what  dey  has  dun 
und  gon  und  dun  to  dis  heer  plantashun,  dat  dey 
aint!  * 

"I  am  sorry,"  exclaimed  Alice,  *kls  the  cat  quite 
dead?"  Clarissa,  she  asked. 


166  THE    BEOKEN    SWORD. 

"Bed!"  exclaimed  Clarissa,  "Sakes  alive,  ef  yer 
wus  to  see  him  yer  wud  fink  dat  lie  had  been  ded 
all  his  life,  dat  yer  wud.  Has  yer  seen  ole  Jube?" 
Clarissa  continued. 

"Yes,  he  is  in  the  verandah,"  Alice  replied. 

"Ugh,  Ugh!  Glad  ob  dat.  Fust  ling  Jube  knows 
he'll  be  hobblin  er  round  on  two  legs  ef  he  aint  kilt 
rite  ded.  De  outdacious  niggers!  I  wushes  dey 
wus  run  outen  de  Ian." 

Clarissa  heard  ole  Jube  bark,  and  looking  out  of 
the  kitchen  window  she  saw  the  regulator  shuffling 
along  in  his  slip-shod  way  with  an  old  haversack 
slung  over  his  shoulder  coming  toward  the  front 
verandah  and  observed  wish  some  pertubation. 

"Miss  Alice,  dos  yer  know  de  truf.  I'm  pinted- 
ly  skeered  ob  dat  speckled  face  white  man.  He 
luks  pine  blank  lak  de  kommisary  ob  de  debbill 
hissef.  He  aint  arter  no  good  on  dis  heer  planta- 
shun.  De  fust  fing  enybody  knows  dere  is  ergwine 
to  be  de  biggest  flustrashun  on  dis  Ian  yer  ever 
heerd  in  yer  born  days  und  nobody  is  agwine  to 
know  de  heds  nur  tails  ov  it.  Look  at  dat  ar  wun 
eye  of  his'n  farely  blazin  lak  a  log-heep  in  de  new 
ground  in  de  nite  time,"  and  Clarissa  shuddered  as 
if  the  clutch  of  the  "kommisary"  was  already  up 
on  her. 

"I  have  heard  very  strange  stories  about  the 
man''  said  Alice  very  solemnly,  as  if  humoring  the 
ignorant  old  woman's  apprehensions. 

"Deed  I  has  too,"  she  replied,  "Und  if  dey  is 
kerrect  dat  ar  creetur  haint  no  human  no  how," 
and  Clarissa  shuddered  again  even  more  violently; 
"Hit  natally  makes  my  flesh  creep  lak  santi- 
pedes,''  she  exclaimed  with  fear.  "Haint  yu  dun 
und  heerd  how  dat  Koo-kluck  mommucked  up 
brudder  Joshaway,  Miss  Alice?  '  asked  Clarissa. 
'Grate  King!'  How  in  de  name  of  de  hebbens  dat 
ole  nigger  ever  retched  dry  Ian  eny  mo  wid  all  dat 


THR    BROKEN    SWORD.  167 

skeer  'pon  him,  I  haint  never  skivered.  He  lowed 
how  dat  hit  wur  provedense,  but  den  twixt  me  and 
yu  Miss  Alice  und  not  to  go  no  fudderr  Joshaway 
is  allus  ergwine  wun  way  und  provedense  de  tuther. 
Yander  he  cums  now  lak  wun  of  dem  ole  crank- 
sided  rare  hos^es,  und  I'm  ergwine  to  fetch  him 
sun)  wittles  rite  fo  yo  eyes  und  den  yu  mout  ax 
him  fur  yosesef. 

Joshua  came  up  quite  feebly,  swathing  his  black 
face  with  his  red  handkerchief  and  bowed  humbly 
to  his  former  mistress. 

"Nowyu  mout  ax  him,  Miss  Alice,  arter  he  wours 
up  dat  last  moufful,  and  I  lay  hit  will  fetch  de 
creeps  ober  yusame  as  de  mash  ager." 

The  old  negro  seemed  very  grateful  for  the  appe 
tizing  food  and  in  a  heartfelt  way  thanked  Alice 
over  and  over  again. 

"Mout  I  sing  er  Mishinary  hime,  yung  missis?" 
he  asked  deferentially  after  he  had  eaten  the  last 
morsel. 

"Yes,  indeed,"  replied  Alice  "I  will  be  delight 
ed  to  hear  you."  And  he  sang  very  plaintively: 

'  Oh  Kanvun,  sweet  Kanj  un  when  shall  I  see, 
When  shall  I  git  dere?" 

After  he  had  concluded  the  song  the  young  lady 
asked  sympathetically, 

"I  am  told  that  you  had  quite  an  unhappy  ex 
perience  at  the  creek  a  few  nights  ago  Uncle  Josh 
ua?  Can  you  tell  me  about  it?"  Joshua  groaned  and 
then  answered  with  a  display  of  feeling. 

"Twas  wusser  dan  er  sperience,  yung  missis,"  as 
he  wiped  the  perspiration  from  his  face,  "twas  een 
wusser  dan  er  yuthshake.  Grate  Jarryko!  'twas 
een  mo  wusser  dan  de  war." 

"Ugh!  Ugh!  I  tole  yu  so!  '  ejaculated  Clarissa. 

"But  den,"  continued  the  old  negro  "Hit  mouter 


168  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

been  een  wnsser  ef  provedense  hadn't  pinted  dese> 
heer  foots  to  de  Inlands." 

''Grate  King!"  again  exclaimed  Clarissa;  "How 
cum  yu  flounder-in  erbout  in  dat  dere  cole  warter 
dat  time  of  nite,  brudder  Joshaway?'' 

"How  come  I  dare?"  he  replied.  "Haint  yu  heerd 
ob  dem  evul  sperrets  in  de  Scriptur  dat  de  sliding 
elder  calls  de  leepers?  Well  den,  dat's  how  cum  I 
dare.  How  cum  de  koo  kluck  dare?  How  cum  de 
drownded  nigger  dare?  Yu  sees,  missis,  dis  heer 
bellyun  haint  mademishunarys  und  possells  outen 
evybody.  Dare's  de  Mefferdises  und  de  harry- 
ticks  und  de  Hardsides,  und  when  dey's  all  flung 
togedder  in  a  loblolly, wid  dare  grace  und  dare  fafe 
und  dare  speriences,  dat's  de  werry  bestest  time  dese 
leepers  has  fur  dare  Crismus,  er  probiii  disserway 
und  datterway,  kase  dem  dare  leepers  dey  spishuns 
dat  whay  dare  is  sich  a  mixtry  ob  de  lams  ob  de 
flock  dare's  bleeged  ter  be  now  und  den  er  harry- 
tick;  dey  sees  sum  ob  de  lams  er  runnin  wid  grace 
und  tuther  wuns  er  graplin  onter  provedense,  und 
den  ergin  fcuther  wuns  er  seein  wishuns  in  de  day 
time,  und  dem  leepers  mout  ez  soon  git  tangled  up 
wid  er  Mishunary  ez  er  harry  tick  er  Hardside; 
und  dat's  how  I  cum  ter  git  kotched.  Don't  you 
see  missis?" 

"Were  you  thrown  into  the  water  by  some  evil- 
designing  person,  Uncle  Joshua?"  asked  Alice  with 
a  natural  inquisitiveness. 

Joshua  groaned  again;  "Ugh-h-h-h  !"  he  shud 
dered. 

"Haint  yu  ergwine  ter  tell  her  de  fust  und  last 
ob  it'  Joshaway?"  asked  Clarissa,  impatiently. 

"Ef  I  hed  one  leetle  moufful  o'  backer  hit  mout 
tak  de  ambishun  outen  de  tale,  und  den  I  mout 
tell  hit  mo  strater.  Haint  yu  got  narry  crumb 
missis,  dat  I  mout  fling  ergin  dis  ole  akefied  snag? 
Dare  now;  dis  backer  is  sho  good!  Now  den,  Sis. 


THE    BROKEN    &WOKD.  169 

Clarsy,  ef  yu  ceeses  yo  mirashuns  I'm  ergwine  ter 
tell  young  missis  how  it  all  cum  erbout  frum  de 
werry  fust  mencement  ter  de  latter  eend." 

"Grate  Jarryko !  hit  puts  dese  here  fousan-leg 
santypedes  er  rastlin  under  my  westcote  when  I 
draps  back  to  dat  ar  casuality.  Ugh-h-h-h!"  he 
shuddered  again.  "Now  den,  de  tale  goes  disser- 
way:  Dare  cum  erlong  by  my  house  in  de  shank  of 
de  nite  dis  yer  furriger.  I  calls  him  a  furriger,  but 
I  spishuns  his  rite  name  is  Koo-kluck  (I'm  mons 
trous  skeerr  o'  dat  white  man  ennyhow) — " 

"Ugh-h-h-h!"  shuddered  Clarissa, 

"Und  he  ups  und  sez,  sez  he,  'Joshaway,  a  woice 
is  ergwine  ter  cum  arter  erwhile  to  yo  house,  und 
don't  yu  go  ergin  it,  und  den  I'd  no  whey  de  mun- 
ny  is.'  Dem  wuz  de  werry  wurds  he  spoke,  missis, 
bress  yo  life.  Und  den  I  ups  und  sez,  sez  I,  How's 
I  ergwine  ter  tell  dat  woice  frum  de  tuther  wuns  \ 
Kase  dare  is  dehoppergrassesund  de  cattle  beastes 
er  woicin  simultaneous  all  detime  eroun  my  house; 
und  den  he  sez,  sez  he,  'Hits  er  cummin  frum  de 
hellyments.'  Jes  so.  Well  den,  sho  nuff  de  woice 
did  cum  dat  werry  nite,  pine  plank  jess  lak  he  sed 
fur  de  wurrel,  und  hit  wur  er  mity  solumkolly 
woice,  same  ez  de  whinkering  ob  Mars  Jon's  wun- 
eyed  mule  down  in  de  mash  in  de  snow  wen  de  fod 
der  is  all  gin  out.  Hit  called  'Joshaway!  Joshaway  !r 
jess  lak  dat,  und  Hanner  she  heerd  it,  (peers  lak 
she's  allus  studdin  erbout  dem  rone  hosses  und  de 
munny,when  her  mind  ain't  er  runnin  on  de  sliden 
elder  und  de  love  feast  down  at  Filadelfy  meetin 
house),  und  she  ups  und  sez, sez  she,  'Joshaway,  is 
yu  gwine?  Yu  mout  git  de  munny  und  den  ergin 
yu  moutn't.'  But  I  seed  dat  her  mouts  wuz  mo 
stronger  dan  her  moutn'ts,  und  I  drug  de  ole  hap- 
pysack  outen  de  bofat,  und  den  I  sez.  SPZ  I,  yes, 
I'm  ergwine.  Und  bimeby  I  gits  ter  de  crick.  Well, 
de  moon  hit  wur  rite  over  yander  under  de  seben 


170  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

storrs  und  peered  lake  hit  wur  er  larfin  und  er  larfin 
ter  itsef  wid  er  mouf  dat  retclied  f rum  yur  to  yur 
und  wun  eye  shot  rite  tite. 

"Dare  wuz  de  line  tide  ter  de  wilier  tree  sho  nuff, 
jess  lak  hit  sed,  und  hit  peered  lak  hit  were  er  tus- 
selin  wid  a  mity  ambishun  wid  de  drownded  hap- 
pysack,  er  shassain  disserway  und  den  ergin  dat- 
terway,  lak  yu  seed  wun  o'  dese  cowr-eetch  wines 
fo  now  er  raslin  in  a  mill  race;  und  I  sez  to  mysef, 
sez  I,  Joshaway,  yu's  got  a  sho  nulf  bite  dis  time, 
und  hit  haint  er  catfish  nudder,  nur  hit  aint  er  «.al- 
lynipper." 

"Oh,  myhebbens!"  again  vociferated  Clarissa. 

"Und  den  I  drug  und  drug  und  drug,  und  bime- 
Tby  I  seed  dat  fish's  two  eyes.  Ugh-h-h-h!  Und  den 
I  drapped  back  into  de  crick  drownded  to  def. 
Ugh-h-h-h!" 

"Grate  King,"  shouted  Clarissa  "Wuz  yu  sho 
nuff  drounded  to  def,  brudder  Joshaway?" 

"Und  den  when  I  seed  dat  niggers  too  eyes  of 
hissen  und — ugh-h-h-h!" 

"Hung  to  de  hook!"  shrieked  Clarissa  interrog 
atively. 

"To  be  sho,  to  be  sho,"  replied  Joshua  with  ir 
ritation;  "Duz  yu  spishun  hit  wur  hung  to  de  gal- 
lus?  Und  ez  I  drapped  missis,  ez  I  drapped,"  he  con 
tinued,  "I  flung  out  dese  too  hands  jess  so  missis, 
und  kotched  holt  of  er  nudder  nigger  drounded  to 
-def  by  er  sarcumstance  dat  haint  neber  been  skiv- 
vered." 

"Und  den  yer  cum  too  ergin?"  queried  Clarissa 
•shaking  with  excitement. 

"Naw  chile,"  Joshua  answered  with  gravity,  "I 
haint  neber  cum  too  no  mo,  dat  I  haint." 

Jake  had  another  delusion — that  to  do  your  work 
without  makin  mistakes  "yer  must  obsarve  the  con- 
.sequences." 

The  old  Colonel  after   he  had   finished  his  toilet 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  171 

walked  out  into  the  verandah  where  he  observed 
Jake  ambling  toward  the  house  and  singing  in  a 
monotone  an  old  army  doggerel  of  questiona 
ble  merit, 

"He  who  fights  and  runs  away, 
Will  live  to  fight  another  day, 
But  he  wbo  is  in  battle  slain: 
Will  never  live  to  fight  again." 

The  regulator  walked  up  the  stone  steps  into  the 
verandah  with  a  leer  in  his  countenance,  satan-like 
in  its  expression. 

Oid  Jube  slunk  away  with  a  sidelong  glance  at 
the  regulator  as  if  he  quite  agreed  with  Clarissa 
that  "He  wus  not  a  humans,  nohow,"  and  coiled 
himself  up  for  the  nap  that  had  been  needlessly 
interrupted  at  the  other  end  of  the  verandah. 

"Now  then  sir,  how  do  you  propose  to  proceed 
in  this  business?" 

"I  aint  er  going  to  proceed,  the  percession  cums 
at  the  latter  eend.  Now  yer  just  hold  yer  breath, 
mister,  twill  I  fix  my  curlecules,  and  then  you  can 
crack  your  whip  and  the  percession  will  start  to 
the  cemetery  with  music  by  the  band." 

The  regulator  filled  a  doubled  barrel  army  can 
teen  full  of  gunpowder,  and  attached  to  it  a  fuse 
that  would  burn  half  an  hour  before  exploding. 
After  doing  this  he  said  to  the  Colonel, 

"When  yer  sees  the  Yankee  school-marm  er  com 
ing  just  call  off  the  cussed  niggers,  twill  I  can 
plant  hit." 

Colonel  Seymour  drew  from  his  pocket  a  dozen 
or  more  pennies  as  he  caught  sight  of  the  school 
marm  riding  down  the  road  in  her  dogcart. 

"Here,  ye  varmints!"  he  cried,  and  he  threw  one 
piece  of  money  at  the  time  in  the  grass  and  the 
negroes  scrambled  for  it  like  a  flock  of  geese  over 
scattered  grains  of  corn. 


172  THE   BROKEN    SWORD. 

Simultaneously  with  the  stroke  of  the  old-fash 
ioned  clock,  came  an  explosion  that  recalled  the 
Crater  with  all  its  horrors  to  the  regulator. 

Clarissa  ran  out  of  the  kitchen  screaming^ 
"Murder!  Fire!  the  Yankees  is  er  comin.  Great 
king,  mars  Jon,  de  ruf  and  de  chimney  on  de  offis 
is  dun  blowed  clean  erway.  In  de  name  of  Gord, 
what  wus  dat,ole  marsa?  Grate  Jerusalam!  which  er 
way  did  dat  harrykin  cum  from?  De  road  is  fair 
ly  er  workin  wid  yung  niggers  widdout  arms  or 
legs  ergwine  er  bellering  every  which  erway.  Fo 
Gord,  de  last  time  I  seed  dat  er  Yankee  wumun 
she  wus  er  flying  fru  de  medder  lak  er  white  her- 
run!" 

After  the  smoke  of  battle  had  cleared  the  regu 
lator  sneaked  up  to  the  Colonel  with  a  broad  grin 
upon  his  face  with  the  enquiry,  "Did  I  do  that  er- 
job  kerrect,  mister?" 


THE    BROKEX    SWORD. 


173 


"I'm  ergwins  back  lak  cUt  pro  iigle  mau  dat  et  up  dem  corn 
•cobs  way  out  yanier  to  de  tuiher  eend  o'  de  vearth." 


174  THE    BROKEN    SWOHD. 


CHAPTER    XIV. 


THE    OATH    OF    FEALTY. 

Since  the  death  of  Mrs.  Seymour  the  negroes  had 
been  busily  plying  their  offensive  vocation  filling 
to  the  very  brim  the  vat  of  vicious  fermentation. 
The  air  at  night  was  laden  with  ribaldry  and 
the  sounds  of  guns.  The  old  master's  labors 
were  greatly  multiplied  too,  since  the  negroes 
were  all  the  while  in  some  exasperating  way  or 
other  celebrating  the  "Emancipation  Proclama 
tion,"  the  dawn  of  freedom.  Their  presence 
had  become  a  serious  menace,  an  ever  recurring 
cause  of  alarm.  His  resources,  too,  were  almost 
gone — the  cattle  had  been  slaughtered  in  the 
range,  the  horses  appropriated  and  returned  when 
convenient,  and  he  dared  not  ask  why  this  spolia 
tion  of  his  property. 

Ned  would  occasionally  announce  his  arrival 
upon  the  plantation  by  furious  blasts  from  a  great 
cracked  horn.  He  would  be  dressed  from  head  to 
foot  in  a  blue  uniform  with  bright  brass  but 
tons  and  yellow  cords  upon  the  revers  and 
sleeves  of  his  jacket,  and  a  coarse  slouched  hat 
with  crossed  swords  in  front,  a  huge  yellow  cord 
with  tassels  around  the  crown,  and  it  sur 
mounted  by  a  peacock's  feather.  The  old  mas 
ter  saw  with  disgust  the  foolish  negro  from  the 
verandah,  marching  up  and  down  the  carriage  way 
with  his  bright  musket,  going  through  the  manual 
of  arms,  ''Sport  Harms!  Horder  arms!  Charge 
bagonets  !"  Aleck  and  Ephraim  and  Henry  were 
dressed  in  the  same  fashion  and  going  through  the 
same  evolutions  on  another  part  of  the  plantation. 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  175 

Now  and  then  a  discharge  from  the  guns  accom 
panied  by  demoniacal  yells  would  frighten  poor 
Alice  almost  to  death.  In  the  dead  hours  of  night 
these  brutal  negroes  to  terrify  her  and  her  father 
would  drill  in  the  front  yard  of  Ingleside  with  vul 
gar  and  boisterous  commands,  and  before  breaking 
ranks  they  would  discharge  their  muskets  with 
horrifying  screams — "Jess  immitntin  de  brav  sojer 
boys  at  Fort  Filler,"  they  said.  Ingleside  was  vir 
tually  a  camp  of  military  instruction  ! 

"Clarissa,"  Alice  exclaimed,  "we  must  go  away 
from  here.  We  will  be  murdered  if  we  do  not  get 
away  from  these  horrid  negroes,  I  shall  die  with 
fright  if  I  remain  here  any  longer.  They  can  come 
at  any  hour  of  the  day  or  night  and  kill  us.  Fa 
ther  is  old  and  feeble  and  cannot  protect  me,  and 
you  know,  Clarissa,  I  cannot  protect  him.  Please 
go  to  him  and  tell  him  we  must  get  away  this  very 
day." 

"Bress  yo  deer  life,  Miss  Alice,  ef  yu  seed,  how 
dis  po  ole  heart  was  a  Hip  tiappin,  fust  peert  und 
den  slow,  lak  a  yaller  hammer  beatin  ergen  er  ded- 
ded  gum,  fust  on  wun  side  und  den  on  de  tuther, 
yu'd  say  ter  yosef,  'po  Clarsy!'  Fo  de  Lawd,  I'm 
skeert  mo  wusser  dan  yu  is,  und  ef  dis  heer  flustra- 
shun  is  ergwine  on  much  fudder  de  Lawd  is  gwine 
ter  rane  down  fire  und  brimstone  on  dese  niggers 
lak  he  d'un  on  dem  Mallyskites,  und  I  specks  er 
grate  big  hunk  is  ergwine  to  hit  Ned  und  Josha- 
way  too,  rite  slam  twixt  de  eye-balls.  Dem  dare 
niggers,  jamby  granddaddies  of  Methuserlum, 
lookin  lak  hants  in  all  dem  f ethers  and  brass  but 
tons,  er  heppin  all  ober  de  taters  und  de  korn  und 
de  cotton,  und  bress  de  Lawd,  ef  I  must  tell  de 
truf,  dey  is  as  perished  up  ez  a  mash  hen  er  settin 
on  tnrkle  eggs.  Yu  needn't  larf  lak  dat,  Miss 
Alice;  de  Lawd  is  gwine  ter  show  dese  niggers 
whos  er  totin  de  biggest  strane,  und  when  he  s^zde 


176  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

wurd,  dey's  ergwine  ter  be  dedder  dan  last  yur's 
gode  wines,  und — " 

"Perhaps,  Clarissa,"  interrupted  Alice,  "these 
troublous  times  are  but  mercies  in  disguise?" 

"Oh,  my  King!"  ejaculated  Clarissa  in  alarm, 
"Murder's  gwine  ter  rise,  yu  sez?  Oh,  my  heb- 
bens!  Is  yu  aiming  fur  dem  kallamities  tu  cum  im- 
megiate,  missis?" 

Alice  laughed  away  the  old  negress'  fears  and 
replied  in  explanation: 

"I  said  they  were  mercies — mercies  in  disguise." 

"Dat  is  mo  better,  Miss  Alice,"  observed  Claris 
sa,  slightly  mollified.  "Kase  I  knoed  ef  dat  tuther 
fing  wuz  ergwine  ter  hap' n, me  und  yu  und  ole  mar- 
ser  mout  git  kilt  fo  enybody  but  de  niggers  spish- 
uned  er  resurreckshun.  Ole  Clarsy' s  skin  is  pow 
erful  black  missis,  und  dis  kinky  hed  is  pided  lak 
dat  ole  wether's  in  de  medder,  but  I'm  ergwine  ter 
stan  by  yu  und  ole  marser  twell  de  eend,  und  when 
Ole  Marser  up  yander  sez  de  word,  I'm  ergwine  ter 
ax  yu  ter  berry  Clarsy  at  ole  missis'  feet;  und  den 
ef  she  heers  de  trumpet  fust  she'll  call  Clarsy,  und 
ef  I  heers  it  fust  I'm  ergwine  ter  call  her,  und  den 
me  und  her  will  jine  hans  und  fly  erway  ter  glory." 

The  pathos  of  this  affectionate  speech  brought 
tears  to  the  eyes  of  her  young  mistress,  and  the 
thought  came  out  of  her  great  sympathetic  nature: 

"Reconstruction  so  far  has  been  a  great  smelting 
furnace — it  has  separated  the  pure  from  the  im 
pure,  and  with  its  refining  heat  has  grappled  with 
hooks  of  steel  the  hearts  of  mistress  and  servant. 
Would  that  I  could  dictate  a  fitting  eulogium  for 
the  faithful  negroes'  for  those  who  are  groping 
still  amid  the  shadows  of  an  epoch  that  seems  obe 
dient  to  no  law  but  of  caprice  and  change." 

If  I  get  to  Heaven,  Clarissa  will  be  at  the  portal 
with  some  such  expression  upon  her  tongue  as  this: 
"Bressyer  hart,  missis,  I've  been  waitin  right  here 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  177 

fur  yer  ever  since  I  heard  yer  wus  er  cummin.  Come 
wid  me,  young  missis,  und  let  me  show  yer  dis  beau- 
tifullest  city  in  de  hole  wurrel." 

"Sixty  days  within  which  to  prove  your  loyal 
ty!"  ''Sixty  days"  were  coming  upon  tireless 
pinions.  Are  the  mills  of  the  gods  still  grinding? 
Is  there  yet  water  in  the  flume  to  run  the  heavy 
wheel?  Is  there  still  grist  to  feed  the  stones? 

"To  prove  your  loyalty"  ran  the  judgment.  What 
badinage  to  toss  into  the  face  of  a  man  who  had 
braved  death  upon  a  hundred  battle-fields  and  all 
for  "loyalty!"  He  had  proved  it  by  great  scarifi 
cations  that  would  have  appalled  every  carpet 
bagger  in  the  South.  Loyalty  is  the  counterpart 
of  honor — the  collaborator  with  duty,  and  the  old 
soldier  for  sixty  five  years  had  maintained  and  per 
formed  his  part  in  his  particular  sphere  of  life; 
yea  out  of  the  crucible  of  hell  he  had  rescued  his 
loyalty — his  character  as  pure  as  the  untrodden 
snow. 

Another  sunrise  shoots  its  gleams  into  the  crib 
bed  heart  of  Old  Ingleside,  and  Clarissa  has  not  re 
turned  to  prepare  breakfast;  what  can  be  the  mat 
ter  ?  "Perhaps  she  is  unwell.  I  am  sure  she  can 
not  be  faithless,  "  argued  Alice  with  herself.  "I 
will  go  and  see."  As  she  entered  the  door  of  the 
cabin  she  saw  Ned  rolling  and  tossing  upon  the 
bed  in  wild  delirium  and  she  asked  Clarissa  what 
was  the  matter  with  her  husband. 

"Don't  know,  Miss  Alice,"  replied  Clarissa,  "ep- 
seps  he  is  tuck  wurser  wid  wun  ob  dem  bad  spells 
agin;  dey  is  cummin  und  agwine  ebery  now  and 
den,  und  he  gits  rite  foolish  und  komikell." 

Alice  drew  her  chair  closely  to  the  bedside  and 
felt  of  the  old  negro's  head  and  it  was  very  hot; 
she  felt  his  pulse  and  it  was  beating  like  a  trip 
hammer.  He  was  groaning,  too,  as  if  in  great 
pain,  crying  out  in  delirium  occasionally  "Charge 
12 


178  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

bagonet  !  Sport  harms  !  hep  !  hep  !  hep  !"  as  if 
drilling  and  going  through  the  manual  of  the  sol 
dier.  Alice  saw  that  something  must  be  done  and 
very  quickly,  and  she  said  to  Clarissa. 

"I  will  run  for  the  doctor." 

"Lor,  missis,  yer  a  gwine  a  trapesing  away  over 
yander  fur  de  doctur  by  your  lone  lorn  sef?  I  specks 
hits  er  mile  ur  too  ef  its  ary  step." 

Within  an  hour  the  physician  was  at  the  bedside 
of  the  sick  negro,  diagnosing  the  case  and  prescrib 
ing  medicine. 

"He  is  not  in  immediate  danger,"  observed  the 
physician  to  Alice,  "But  he  must  be  watched." 

"I  want  to  put  him  under  your  care  and  what 
ever  your  charge  may  be  I  will  pay  it." 

"Thank  you, miss,"  replied  the  physician  with  a 
smile.  "I  will  see  that  he  does  not  suffer  for  the 
want  of  medical  treatment.  By  the  way,  how  is 
your  father's  health  now,  Miss  Alice?"  he  asked. 

"I  think  I  can  see  that  lie  is  failing,  sir,"  the 
girl  replied  sadly. 

"I  presume  he, like  every  body  else,is  greatly  an 
noyed  by  the  freedmen." 

"Yes,  a  few  of  them  have  given  us  trouble,"  she 
replied. 

"Perhaps  I  shall  see  you  again  to-morrow.  You 
will  find  that  the  negro  will  rest  very  well  after  his 
fever  abates  a  little,"  and  the  doctor,  shaking 
Alice's  hand  cordially,  bade  her  good  morning. 

"Now  Clarissa,"  Alice  said  after  the  doctor  had 
gon*>,  "You  run  over  home  and  prepare  breakfast 
for  father,  and  I  will  watch  by  Uncle  Ned  until 
you  get  back. 

"Miss  Alice,"  exclaimed  Clarissa  "sposin  dat 
kommykle  nigger  gits  outen  bed  what  is  yer 
agwine  to  do  den  ?" 

The  old  negro's  expression  was  so  ludicrous  that 
Alice  was  obliged  to  laugh  as  she  observed,  "I  will 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  179 

take  care  of  him;  never   mind.     If  he  gets  out  of 
the  bed  I  will  get  him  back  again." 

"Und  him  a  plum  stracted  idjeot  ?"  ejaculated 
Clarissa  as  she  passed  out  of  the  door. 

Alice  pursuing  the  directions  of  the  physician, 
brought  from  the  spring  near  by  a  bucket  of  very 
cold  water  and  sat  down  again  at  the  bedside  and 
very  gently,  soothingly,  bathed  the  old  negro's 
face  and  brow.  The  fever  was  abating,  still  the 
deft  lingers  dripping  with  the  water  pressed  the 
fevered  face.  Once  Ned  partially  aroused  exclaim 
ed  deliriously, 

.  "I'se  a  woting  ebery  time  fur  de  boss,  who's  yer 
a  woting  fur,  Joshaway?" 

After  quite  awhile  Ned  awoke,  at  first  a  little 
abstracted  and  asked ! 

"Is  dat  yer,  Clarsy,  wid  dem  dar  shiny  eyes?" 
and  again  dropped  into  a  restful  slumber. 

This  time  there  were  no  exacerbations,  no  de 
lirium,  but  he  slept  as  tranquilly  as  a  little  child. 
The  fever  had  passed  away.  He  awoke  and  saw 
the  dear  child  whom  he  had  so  brutally  wronged 
sitting  like  a  guardian  angel  by  the  bed;  her 
white  hands  cool  and  refreshing  still  pressing  his 
forehead,  and  the  old  negro  covered  his  wrinkled 
face  with  his  skinny  hands  and  wept.  Wept  from 
a  sense  of  shame,  remorse.  He  remembered  that 
when  her  need  was  sorest  he  had  acted  the  brute — 
turned  his  back  upon  this  poor  child  who  with  a 
full  knowledge  of  his  manifold  acts  of  cruelty  and 
injustice  was  nursing  him  back  to  life. 

"Is  dat  yer,  Miss  Alice?"  he  asked  through  his 
blinding  tears.  "Gord  bress  yer  dear  sweet  life, 
young  misses,  I  fort  yer  wus  ur  angel.  I  didn't 
fink  dat  my  young  misses  dat  I  left  ober  yander  in 
de  grate  house  by  her  lone  sef,  to  fend  fur  hersef 
und  de  ole  marsa,  wud  do  dis  urren  ob  mussy  fur  a 


180  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

po'  outcast  nigger  lak  ole  Ned."    And  the  old  ne 
gro  began  to  cry  afresh. 

,"Don't  cry,  Uncle  Ned,  the  good  Lord  commands 
us  to  visit  the  sick  and  I  am  trying  to  do  my  duty 
toward  Him  and  toward  you.  You  are  so  much 
better  now;  don't  worry  and  cry  over  me.  The  Lord 
is  chastening  us,  l»ut  it  is  all  for  His  glory.  Uncle 
Ned." 

"When  I  woke  fust  time,  missis,  I  didn't  know 
whar  I  wus, "  he  continued,  wiping  his  eyes,  und 
den  I  drapped  back  to  sleep  agin  und  it  peared  lak 
de  butifullest  sperits  huvered  all  erround  de  bed, 
and  wun  ob  dem  mo  butifuller  dan  tother  wuns 
crep  rite  easy  lak  und  put  her  hand  on  my  forhed 
und  I  heerd  tother  wuns  call  her  'Alice,'  und  I  spish- 
uned  it  mouter  been  yer,  I  knowed  it  wus  yer. 
Does  yer  know  why  dis  ole  nigger  cried  jess  now, 
missis?"  "Taint  my  fault  dat  I  turned  agin  yer  und 
ole  marsa — de  Lord  in  Hebben  knows  it  aint.  Ef 
I  had  minded  Clarsy,  yer  und  ole  marsa  wudn't 
faulted  me  no  how.  I  wudn't  hurt  a  har  on  yer 
hed  for  a  wurrell  ful  of  freedum — dat  I  wudn't. 
De  dratted  niggers  tole  me  how  dat  I  mout  be  big- 
gety  und  play  boss-lak,  und  den  I  wud  git  to  be 
leftenant  und  den  I  mout  be  cappen  ob  de  milun- 
tary  cump'ny,  und  wear  grate  big  gold  upperlips 
lak  de  boss,  und  ef  I  wus  agwine  to  die  dis  minit  I 
dares  on  my  sclemnkolly  ofe  dat  dem  dare  biggity 
white  fokses  in  de  town  is  de  meanest  passel  ob 
humans  in  de  yurth.  Dey  is  worsern  jack-lanterns 
'ticin'  de  culled  fokses  furder  und  furder  into  mis 
ery.  Missis,  ef  yer  und  ole  marser  will  oberlook 
dese  here  transgrashuns  I'll  nebber,  nebber  gin 
yer  no  mo  sorrer,  dat  I  won't." 

"Uncle  Ned,"  replied  Alice  with  her  beautiful 
eyes  radiant  through  tears,  "from  the  bottom  of 
my  heart  I  forgive  you  if  you  have  ever  given  of 
fense  to  my  father  or  to  me.  I  think  I  can  see  that 


THE   BROKEN    SWORD.  181 

great  good  is  to  come  out  of  it  all.  Don't  you 
know  how  the  children  of  Israel  suffered  in  Egypt, 
and  in  their  journeyings  through  the  desert  land, 
when  the  dry  parched  lands  yielded  no  corn  and 
the  Lord  fed  his  people  and  led  them  safely  into 
Canaan?" 

''Yes,  marm,  dat  I  duz,  und  He  is  ergwine  ter 
leed  us  outen  dese  lowgrounds,  too,  missis,  und  ef 
He  doan  do  dat  I  knows  whut  He  is  ergwine  ter 
do — He  is  ergwine  ter  dribe  dese  Filistin  men  outen 
dis  kentry  wid  a  storm  ob  yaller  jackets  lak  He 
drib  Farro  outen  de  lanob  de  Mallyskites." 

Clarissa  having  performed  her  work  in  the  great 
house  came  into  the  cabin  at  this  moment  and  was 
greatly  surprised  to  find  Ned  in  an  animated  con 
versation  with  her  mistress:  Ned  observing  as  her 
footfall  arrested  his  attention: 

"Dar  now,  Clarsy,  yer  is  dun  und  gone  und 
fotched  us  down  agin." 

"Fetched  yer  whar,  Ned,"  exclaimed  Clarissa  in 
wonderment. 

"Frum  de  perly  gates,  dat's  whar,"  replied  Ned. 
"Me  und  Miss  Alice  has  jes  bin  ergwine  erbout  all 
ober  de  New  Jerusalum,  und  yu  fotched  us  rite 
back  to  de  yurth  agen— dat's  er  sin  ter  yer,  Clar 
sy." 

"Fo  de  Lawd,  is  yer  er  plum  stracted  idjet?  What 
is  yer  er  doin  in  de  New  Jerusulum?  Is  yer  dun 
und  washed  erway  yer  sins?  I  don't  see  no  whings 
in  dis  heer  house— how  did  yer  git  up  dar  Ned." 

Alice  laughed  immoderately,  and  even  Ned 
obliged  himself  to  confess  "dat  he  was  in  de  sper- 
ret  in  de  New  Jerusulum." 

"Miss  Alice,"  asked  Ned  quite  earnestly,  "has 
yer  got  de  good  book  wid  yer?" 

"Yes,  Ned,  I  have  my  mother's  bible  with  me; 
wherever  I  go  it  is  my  companion  always.  Shall  I 
read  a  passage  to  you?"  answered  Alice. 


182  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

"Ef  yer  plese,  mum.  I  aims  ter  cut  ernudder 
notch  in  my  ole  walkin  stick,  und  when  I  looks  at 
dat  I'm  ergwine  ter  drap  rite  down  und  pray." 

Alice  opened  the  little  thumb-worn  book  at  the 
second  chapter  of  John  and  began  to  read: 

"My  little  children,  these  things  write  I  unto  you, 
that  ye  sin  not.  And  if  any  man  sin  we  have  an 
advocate  with  the  Father — Jesus  Christ  the  Right 
eous." 

"Don't  you  see,  Uncle  Ned,"  Alice  said  as  she 
looked  up  into  the  old  negro's  black  face,  "how 
good  the  Lord  is  to  us?  He  puts  it  into  the  mouth 
of  His  apostle  to  call  us  little  children,  and  he 
tells  us  that  the  Saviour  is  pleading  for  us  poor 
sinners.  'Love  not  the  world,  neither  the  things 
that  are  in  the  world.  If  any  man  love  the  world 
the  love  of  the  Father  is  not  in  him.'  When  we 
are  in  distress  or  trouble,"  continued  Alice,  "we 
must  turn  away  from  the  beggarly  elements  of  the 
world  and  cast  our  cares  upon  Him,  for  He  careth 
for  us." 

"Whot  sort  er  elements  did  yer  say,  missis'*" 
asked  Ned  attentively. 

"Beggarly  elements,"  replied  Alice.  "There  is 
nothing  that  satisfieth  in  this  life,  uncle  Ned;  and 
all  the  world  can  give  us  in  comforts  and  riches 
are  as  husks — we  must  look  to  Jesus  and  to  Him 
only  for  consolation — for  salvation." 

"Dat  is  de  Gospel  truf,"  exclaimed  Clarissa,  with 
emotion. 

"Miss  Alice,  will  yer  fault  me  fur  axin  yer  wun 
mo  questun?  Is  dere  eny  deference  in  hebben 
twixt  er  cullud  pussun  und  a  white  pussun?" 

"No  indeed,"  replied  Alice;  "we  are  His  chil 
dren  if  we  are  faithful — the  work  of  His  hands." 

"Dat  questiun,  missis,  has  oversized  me  all  dese 
days,  und  I  was  afeered  dat  we  was  de  gotes  dat  de 
Lawd  drib  ober  on  tother  side,erway  frum  de  lams, 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  183 

kase,  missis,  when  I  gits  dar  I  wants  ter  live  rite 
close  ter  ole  marser's  und  young  missis'  'great 
house,'  whar  I  kin  see  yer  und  tend  yer  boff." 

"You  will  not  need  to  do  us  that  service,  Uncle 
Ned.  You  will  have  a  mansion  of  your  own;  there 
will  be  no  great  houses  there.  The  good  Lord  will 
know  no  difference  between  you  and  me,  only  as 
you  or  I  shall  excel  here  in  doing  His  holy  will. 
Don't  you  want  to  serve  Him,  old  negro,  so  you 
shall  have  a  crown  of  rejoicing  by  and  by?" 

"Dat  I  does,  young  missis.  My  ole  bones  is  mity 
shackly,  und  it  aint  ergwineterbelong  afore  I  goes 
outen  dis  cabin  fer  de  las  time;  und  ef  its  His  will 
ter  call  me  fust,  I'm  agwine  ter  pick  out  de  buti- 
fulest  great  house  in  de  city,  und  stay  rite  dere  lak 
er  watch -dorg  twell  yer  und  ole  marser  cums  und 
taks  perseshun.  When  I  gits  outen  dis  bed,  missis, 
I'm  gwine  back  home — gwineback  to  ole  Mars  Jon, 
lak  dat  prodigle  man  dat  woured  up  dem  korn  cobs 
way  out  yander." 

Alice,  the  true  hearted  Christian,  could  not  with 
hold  her  tears  as  the  old  negro  so  eloquently,  yet 
so  ignorantly,  revealed  his  love  and  loyalty.  She 
arose  from  her  chair  to  bid  him  good  bye: 

"One  word  mo,  missis,  und  den  I'm  dun.  I  wants 
jes  one  little  drap  o'  prayer,  pleas' m." 

Alice  knelt  reverently  at  the  bed  and  tenderly 
prayed  that  the  old  negro  might  be  accepted  as  a 
child  of  the  King — a  royal  son  of  a  Royal  Father, 
whose  kingdom  was  above  all  thrones  and  princi 
palities,  and  from  everlasting  to  everlasting. 

"Und  now,  Clarsy,"  said  old  Ned,  "yer  stan  rite 
dere,  und  Miss  Alice  yer  stan  whar  yer  is,  und  hear 
me  swar  dis  ofe:  'I,  Ned  Semo,  does  swar  und  kiss 
dis  little  bible  ob  ole  missusses'  who's  dun  und  gon 
to  hebben,  dat  nebber  mo'  will  I  lif  my  mouf  nur 
my  han  nur  my  hart  in  mischuf  agen  ole  marser 
und  young  Miss  Alice,  so  help  me  Gawd!" 


184  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

Let  us  believe  that  the  recording  angel  in  the 
heavenly  court  has  engrossed  this  oath  in  a  never- 
fading  holograph  in  his  journal,  and  that  whenever 
the  sacred  tome  is  read  as  witnessing  the  good 
there  is  in  the  creature,  the  word  "approve"  shall 
appear  upon  the  margin. 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  185 


CHAPTER    XV. 


THE    BLACK    DIPLOMAT. 

Alice  was  persevering  in  those  little  attentions 
to  the  sick  negro  that  were  operating  in  a  salutary 
way  upon  his  heart.  What  power,  however  rebel 
lious  or  unfriendly,  could  withstand  the  charm  of 
that  fragrant  life? — a  life  so  redundant  in  acts  of 
charity  and  benevolence,  that  carried  its  dispen 
sations  into  the  cabins  of  the  poor  freedmen  to 
whom  the  authorities  under  reconstruction  made 
so  many  promises — promises  to  the  ear  to  be  broken 
to  the  hope. 

The  old  negro's  sympathies  now  and  then  for  his 
master  and  young  mistress  would  die  down  into 
ashes,  and  then  again,  when  he  looked  toward 
Ingleside  and  thought  of  its  defenceless  inmates, 
his  feelings  would  be  grateful  and  kind. 

In  all  the  years  that  were  gone,  his  old  master 
and  mistress  has  been  so  kind  to  him,  in  sickness 
and  health;  they  had  clothed  and  fed  him;  with 
out  their  assistance  he  would  have  been  so  help 
less.  Indeed,  Ned  had  never  felt  the  rigors  or  op 
pression  of  slavery  in  this  household  or  upon  this 
plantation.  Old  master's  government  was  patri 
archal,  and  emancipation  had  come  so  inoppor 
tunely;  somehow  it  never  appealed  to  the  affec 
tions,  or  the  love  of  the  old  negroes,  but  it  came 
upon  them  as  other  great  crises  have  come — with 
arguments  and  reinforcements  that  shattered  every 
principle  of  manhood  and  bestialized  their  natures. 
It  came  with  proclamations  against  the  universally 
denounced  crime  of  slavery,  and  with  an  energet 
ically  centralized  power;  and  the  old  negroes,  un- 


186  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

able  to  reason  intelligently  from  premises  so  false 
and  enticing,  forgot  their  loyalty  to  their  friends 
and  looked  to  the  carpet-bagger  for  a  new  revela 
tion. 

The  lovely  girl  was  always  happy  when  minis 
tering  to  the  sick,  even  in  the  huts  of  destitution 
and  squalor.  She  was  happy  when  she  pressed 
Uncle  Ned's  wrinkled  brow  and  felt  that  the  con 
suming  fever  had  been  driven  out  of  his  system  by 
medication  and  faithful  nursing. 

When  her  own  heart  was  burdened  by  sorrow, 
she  sang  out  of  its  fullness  and  pathos  to  the  ne 
gro,  and  the  tears  glided  out  of  his  eyes  and  ran 
down  into  the  deep- cut  furrows  of  his  black  face. 

The  old  negro  discovered  in  the  experience  of 
the  few  eventful  years  that  there  was  nothing  hope 
ful  or  helpful  in  the  pledges  or  proclamations  of 
the  reconstructionists.  The  very  old  negroes  were 
not  counted  in  the  aggregation  of  their  numerical 
power,  or  in  the  sum  total  of  the  freedmen.  "Old 
Olory''  never  welcomed  them  with  a  dip  of  its  proud 
<?rest  as  they  passed  in  and  out  of  the  town  in  tat 
ters  and  rags.  It  never  bade  them  with  its  caress 
to  pause  within  its  grateful  shadow  in  the  dog  days 
when  they  were  over  wearied  with  marching  and 
counter-marching. 

The  great  Commissariat  persistently  withheld  its 
bounty  when  there  was  no  election — no  votes  to  be 
polled  for  Laflin  and  his  pampered  minions.  These 
dilapidated  creatures  were  post -prandial  guests  in 
the  banqueting  halls  of  the  bosses;  hounds  rather  to 
gnaw  the  bones  that  were  flung  as  offal  upon  the 
refuse  heaps.  They  were  not  the  artisans  who  were 
toiling  upon  the  super-structure  of  the  new  south; 
not  wanted  in  cabals,  intrigues,  conventions;  not 
the  journeymen  who  where  revamping  the  political 
edifice;  not  mechanics  who  were  furbishing  the 
weapoDS  of  plunder;  not  trained  to  the  harness  as 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  187 

beasts  of  burden  in  dragging  thf>  car  of  reconstruc 
tion  with  its  whetted  knives  over  the  prostrated 
country.  Hence  it  was  that  gaunt  poverty  with  its 
steel  tined  fork  was  constantly  prodding  the  old 
negroes  whs  had  turned  their  backs  upon  their 
mascers  and  whose  new  masters  were  dull  of  hear 
ing,  hence  it  was  that  so  many  who  had  hungered 
for  the  flesh  pots  were  going  back  to  the  leaks  and 
garlic;  hence  it  was  that  hunger  had  given  such 
acuteness  to  old  Ned's  sense  of  smell,  that  Alice 
was  greeted  with  an  exclamation  brimming  over 
with  gratitude. 

"I'm  so  skeert,  young  missis,  dat  Ihaint  ergwine 
to  git  outen  dis  house  in  a  hole  munt." 

The  exclamation  provoked  a  smile  from  the  sweet 
girl  who  came  laden  with  good  things  for  Ned  and 
she  replied  apologetically, 

UI  am  sorry,  uncle  Ned,  that  I  couldn't  know 
just  what  you  wanted." 

The  sick  negro  shook  his  head,  for  his  mouth  was 
too  full  for  verbal  explanations,  and  then  bowed 
his  thanks,  observing  after  a  moment. 

"Clarsy,  when  I  heerd  yung  missis  at  de  do  I 
node  it  was  Santy  Clors,  sho  nuif." 

"Bress  you  hart,  missis,  enny  nigger  dat  wudn't 
fite  twell  def  fur  yu  und  ole  marser  had  ort  to  be 
hung  by  de  nek  twell  hes  ded." 

Ned  would  have  extemporized  upon  the  subject 
perhaps  at  greater  length;  but  for  the  interruption 
of  a  dilapidated  negro,  dressed  in  a  dingy  thread 
bare  blue  uniform;  whose  white  head  was  covered 
by  a  decayed  beaver,  from  which  a  dirty  red 
handkerchief  hung  over  his  left  eye. 

The  new  comer  was  Joshua;  perhaps  the  first  and 
most  patriotic  recruit  in  the  army  of  the  freedmen; 
among  the  first  to  cut  asunder  the  ligature  of 
slavery. 

As  the  huge  Commissariat  advertised  the  fatness 


188  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

of  reconstruction,  so  Joshua  advertised  the  lean 
ness  thereof. 

The  black  diplomat  in  a  tentative  way  was 
preparing  the  colored  people  for  an  event  of  mo 
mentous  consequence.  His  mission  to  Ned's  cabin 
was  for  this  purpose. 

"Mornin  to  yu  boff,"  came  the  crusty  greeting. 

"Is  dat  yu,  brudder  Joshaway?  '  Clarissa  en 
quired. 

"Yes,  dis  is  me." 

"Cum  in, den,"  said  Clarissa,  and  Joshua,reeling 
from  old  age  tottered  in  and  took  a  seat  with  a 
groan. 

"Is  dat  you,  Miss  Alice?"  he  asked  looking  up 
and  shading  his  eyes  with  a  palsied  hand  and  see 
ing  the  young  lady  in  the  cabin. 

"Scuse  me,  marm,  I  haint  seed  yu  afore." 

"Good  morning,  Uncle  Joshua,  I  am  very  glad 
to  see  you.  You  are  a  stranger  to  us  and  the  old 
home.  I  should  think  you  would  come  to  see  us 
now  and  then,  to  know  how  we  are  getting  on. 
Have  you  entirely  forgotten  your  old  friends?" 

The  old  negro  dropped  his  head  embarrassing 
ly  as  he  replied  with  hesitation.  "Not  eggzackly, 
mum,  but  fokeses  has  dun  und  got  so  kurous  now 
a  days  dar  haint  no  telling  how  menny  scrapes  yu 
is  erg  wine  to  git  kotched  in;  I'm  moest  afeered  to 
git  outen  Hanner's  wision,  deed  I  is,  mum." 

"You  are  not  a  soldier  I  hope,  uncle  Joshua?  Do 
you  belong  to  the  army,"  asked  Alice  as  she  ob 
served  the  blue  uniform  that  he  wore. 

"No  mum,  not  pintedly,"  the  negro  furtively 
answered.  "Dat  is  I  don't  tote  no  muskeet — und 
I  got  my  deesharge  from  de  leftenant — und  I  haint 
got  no  offis  in  pertickler,  but  de  cappen  lowed  dat 
he  mout  pint  me  corpurul  of  de  gyard  at  de  kumis- 
surry  ef  I  cud  hole  out." 

"Ef  I  cud  hole  out"  sneeringly  repeated  Claris- 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  189 

sa.  "Ugh!  Nigh  unto  er  bunded  year  ole  er  holin 
out;  mouter  say  ef  yu  cud  hole  in;  jess  es  ragged  es 
er  sedge  hen." 

Alice  was  very  much  amused  at  the  coarse  wit  of 
Clarissa,  but  it  was  important  that  she  should  re 
turn  home  and  perhaps,  too,  her  presence  might  em 
barrass  the  interview  between  the  freed  slaves,  and 
taking  uncle  Joshua's  hand  in  her  own  she  bade 
him  good  bye  with  the  observation? 

"Remember,  old  man,  that  father  and  I  are  still 
your  friends;  and  when  you  are  in  trouble  or  dis 
tress  come  to  us.  May  God  bless  you,  uncle 
Joshua." 

"Good  by,  missis!"  exclaimed  Joshua,  as  he 
wiped  his  eyes  with  his  coat  sleeve,  "May  de 
Lord  do  de  same  to  yu  missis." 

After  the  young  lady  had  retired,  Joshua,  with 
some  trepidation,  observed: 

"Brudder  Johnsing,  Hanner  sont  me  ober  heer 
to  ax  yu  und  sister  to  de  weddin  Saddy  nite  und  to 
tell  sister  Johnsing  how  she  mout  bake  er  cake 
wid  ice  on  de  tip  eend  of  hit,  ur  she  moutent 
ef  she  didn't  want  to." 

"Who  dat  want  er  cake?''  exclaimed  Clarissa. 

"Yu  heerd  whot  I  sed,  didn't  yu?"  Joshua  petu 
lantly  replied. 

"Who  dat  ergwine  to  git  married  Joshua?"  she 
asked. 

"Efrum,  dats  who,"  replied  Joshua. 

"My  King!  dat  biggerty  nigger  ergwine  to  git 
married  sho  nuff?" 

"Deed  he  is,  und  he  is  ergwine  to  marry  way  up 
yander  outen  site  too — ergwine  to  git  er  portly 
white  gal  wid  de  moest  dimuns  und  watch  chains 
und  bunnets  kivered  wid  hostrich  fedders.  When 
yu  sees  dat  gal  yu'll  see  er  hole  steer  kaart  fall  of 
dimuns  er  shinin  ebery  which  er  way;  und  yu  has 
to  keep  yo  eyes  shot  rite  tite,  don't  yu  ergwine  to 


190  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

git  struck  plum  bline,  same  as  de  possle  Peter 
dun  when  dat  white  man  was  ergwine  up  to  Jar- 
riko;  dat  yu  will !  Is  you  und  sister  Jonsin  er 
gwine  to  de  weddin;  und  is  yu  ergwine  to  bake  de 
cake  ?  Tell  me  dat  fust." 

Clarissa  deliberately  raised  herself  out  of  the 
rickety  chair  in  which  she  was  sitting,  with  a 
grunt,  and  walked  over  to  Joshua,  and  lifting  the 
old  beaver  from  his  head,  remarked  in  a  provoking 
way: 

"I  spishuned  dat  de  boss  had  dun  und  crapped 
yo  years  wid  swaller  forks." 

"How  much  yu  dun  und  got  from  ole  Laffin  fur 
bein  his  nigger;  yu  und  Efrum;  tell  me  dat?" 

"Swaller  forks!'  indignantly  replied  Joshua. 
"Sich  humans  as  yu  is  dun  woured  up  de  creeters 
dat  toted  de  swaller-forks  fo  de  belliun  fell.  Swaller- 
forks!"  he  again  repeated  in  disgust;  and  turned  in 
his  seat  to  look  savagely  at  Clarissa  and  held  his 
peace. 

"You  need  nt  shine  dem  ole  holler  eyes  at  me, 
Joshaway;  yuse  ergwine  erbout  er  hipperty  hop 
from  wun  house  to  ernudder  wid  yo  weddin  in- 
wites  und  I  lay  a  fo  pence  yu  haint  gotnarry  tater 
nur  hocake  nudder  whar  yu  stays.  I  don' t  look  fur 
nuffin  else  but  er  yurthshake  to  swaller  up  de 
pizened  niggers  big  und  little  er  keepin  dis  planta- 
shun  in  er  monstrus  flustrashun  ebery  day  und 
nite  de  Lord  sends.  Ergwine  to  marry  er  portly 
white  gal!  Great  King !  Und  yu  er  noratin  de 
news,  lookin  dis  werry  minit  lak  a  po  run  down 
gizzard  shad  wid  one  foot  in  de  grabe  und  tuther 
wun  er  slanting  innards.  Ergwine  to  de  weddin  ! 
When  yu  sees  er  biggerty  nigger  er  jinin  hissef  to 
er  white  gal  in  dis  Ian,  yu  ergwine  to  see  seben 
moons  in  de  hellyments  at  wun  time." 

"Yu  and  Efrum  needn't  spishun  kase  de  Souf- 
land  is  dun  und  konkered  wun  time  und  flung  up- 


THR    BROKEN    SWORD.  191 

on  hits  back  dat  yu  pizened  niggers  is  gwine  to- 
git  de  underholt  de  nex  time,  ef  boff  her  hands  is 
tied,  Dares  ole  mars  Jon's  sord  a  lyin  agen  de 
bofat  er  natally  cryin  fur  a  moufful  of  yore  black 
meat  same  as  a  strayed  gander  er  squorkin  for  his 
shipmates,  und  it  aims  to  cut  hit  off  whay  hit  aint 
ergwine  to  heal  togedder  no  mo  !  und  ef  yu  don't 
walk  mity  perpundikkler,  de  werry  fust  time  yu 
cums  to  yo  membrunce,  dat  ole  crows'  nest  on  de 
tip  eend  of  yo  ole  hed  is  ergwine  to  be  layin  in 
wun  jam  of  de  fence  und  yo  old  karkuss  in  er  nud- 
der.  Ergwine  to  de  weddin  !  Grate  Jerusalem!" 

Joshua  for  a  moment  was  completely  disarmed 
by  the  rapid  volleys  from  Clarissa's  battery,  but 
he  was  not  without  resources,  even  in  this  terrific 
encounter.  He  fixed  his  savage  glance  upon  the 
old  negress,  as  he  asked  with  due  gravity. 

"Is  yu  ergwine  to  fight  for  the  secesh  ef  de  war 
do  take  a  fresh  rise  2" 

"Yu  heerd  what  I  sed,  Joshaway,"  replied-Clar- 
issa  with  a  significant  gesture.  "Ef  yu  don't  want 
Mars  Jon's  sord  er  gashing  yu  into  leetle  hunks  of 
horg  meat  yu  got  to  walk  mity  perpundikkler. 

"Bress  God  !"  exclaimed  Joshua  as  he  wiped  his 
face  with  his  dirty  handkerchief,  "How  kin  a  hu 
mans  walk  perpundikkler  wid  free  crooks  in  de 
back  und  de  rumatiz  in  boff  shanks?" 

"Dat  ole  sord  is  ergwine  to  tak  dem  dere  crooks 
outen  yore  back  same  as  a  toof  doctor  jerkin  out 
dat  ole  snag  of  yourn,"  answered  Clarissa. 

"To  be  sho  yu  haint  ergwine  agin  yo  own  kuller?"' 
suggested  Joshua. 

"Is  yu  fur  de  Nuniun  ur  de  Secesh,  ef  de  belliun 
haint  squelched  ur  nuffin  ?" 

There  was  a  directness  about  the  question  that 
momentarily  unnerved  Clarissa  but  she  saw  that 
she  was  tacitly  reinforced  by  Ned  and  she  replied 
with  the  same  exhibition  of  temper. 


192  THE    BROKEN    SWOKD. 

"Me  und  Ned  is  boff  ergwine  to  fight  for  ole 
marser,  ef  de  warhaint  swaged  und  de  time  we  gits 
froo  wid  yu,  yu's  ergwine  to  immytate  dat  ole  gy- 
arment,  er  layin  dere  in  dat  pail  of  poke  juice." 

"Grate  Jarryko!  '  exclaimed  Joshua  with  vehe 
mence,  "dat  ar  nigger  dun  und  fetched  on  ernud- 
der  belliun  widout  ary  shutin  ion  ur  muskeet  ud 
der.  Don't  do  hit,  chile,"  he  continued  patroniz 
ingly,  "kase  ef  yu  uprares  ernudder  insurreckshun 
fo  dis  heer  wun  is  dun  und  ceasded  in  dis  heer 
po  souf,  de  dekins  in  de  church  is  ergwiue  to  fling 
yer  into  outer  darkness.  Yu  er  sot  back  er  Sun- 
dys  in  de  jam  of  de  mussy  seat  wid  eyes  shot  tite 
lak  de  slidin  elder,  er  singin  'Kanyun,  sweet  Kan- 
yun,'  und  bress  Gawd  yu  is  batin  de  lams  ob  de 
flock  wid  leetle  mouffuls  o'  hell  farr." 

"Ergwine  tu  de  weddin!  My  Lord!"  This  was 
the  derisive  answer  that  Clarissa  made  to  this  fan 
faronade  of  old  Joshua. 

Ned  laid  upon  the  bed  laughing  to  himself  with 
his  eyes  fixed  upon  the  crude  masonry  of  a  dirt- 
dauber  that  was  preparing  to  go  into  winter  quar 
ters  just  above  his  head. 

"Is  yu  dun  wid  speechifyin,  sister  Johnsin?" 
asked  uncle  Joshua  as  he  again  wiped  bis  moist 
face  with  his  handkerchief.  "Ef  yu  is,  I  has  jes  got 
wun  re'ckymendashun  fur  sich  ez  yu.  Pend  upon 
it,  sister,  ef  yu  wus  Hanner  und  Hanner  wus  yu,  I 
wud  play  hail-kerlumby-happy-lan  on  yo  ole  bones 
wid  er  palin  fo  brekfus  und  arter  supper  too,  all 
de  time.  Ole  Satan  hes  dun  und  stobbed  boff  yo 
yearns  wid  pitch -forks,  und  de  Lawd  nose  he  is 
wusser  dan  de  boss,  und  de  pitch-forks  is  wusser 
dan  de  s waller- forks.  Ef  dat  white  gal  wants  to 
jine  hersef  to  dat  cullud  gem  man,  who's  ergwine  to 
header  ?  Tell  me  dat  ?  I  haint  ergwine  to  pester 
mysef  wid  no  sich  low  down  trash  es  yu  is,  und  ef 
yu  goes  to  de  weddin  dare  haint  ergwine  to  be  no 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  193 

weddin  gyarment  fur  yu,  und  when  yu  nocks  at 
de  do,  brudder  Effrum  is  ergwine  to  fling  yu  out 
into  tarnel  darkness  whar  de  whang  doodlum  hoops 
und  hollers  fur  hits  onliest  chile." 

"My  King,"  exclaimed  Clarissa  "whot  is  dat  ole 
nigger  er  spashiatin  erbout  Ned  ?" 

Ned  could  not  restrain  himself,  but  burst  out  in 
to  a  great  guffaw.  Joshua  angered  above  measure 
gathered  himself  together  and  walked  out  of  the 
cabin  with  the  observation: 

"I  wants  to  see  wun  mo  whupping  post  in  de  Ian 
fo  I  dies, und  I  wants  hits  uprared  at  dis  do, und  I 
wants  to  fling  de  whoop  fur  de  high  shurunV' 

Upon  the  exit  of  Joshua  Ned  began  seriously  to 
think  of  the  flagrant  acts  of  injustice  which  had 
more  or  less  warped  his  nature;  and  all  in  his 
heedless  pursuit  of  freedom  and  sovereignty.  He 
saw  within  his  cabin  a  perpetual  menace  to  the 
peace  of  old  master  and  young  mistress.  Upon 
every  visit  that  Alice  made  to  his  lowly  home  he 
saw  that  a  grief  too  deep  to  be  sounded, bayonetted 
afresh  her  poor  heart.  The  armed  soldier  who  slew 
her  brother  and  sweetheart  wore  a  blue  jacket  like 
the  one  that  hung  in  the  rack  above  his  bed;  how 
could  he  be  true  to  his  oath  with  these  menaces 
flaunting  in  the  face  of  his  young  mistres?  So  with  a 
huge  frown  upon  his  fare  he  said  to  his  wife, 
"Clarsy,  dem  ole  blu  gyarments  und  dat  ole  mus- 
kett  is  jess  whot  plade  de  devul  twixt  nle  und  ole 
marser.  Mouter  node  dey  wud  set  ole  marser  er 
flre;  he  er  fitin  dem  yankys  fur  fo  year  in  de  war 
und  got  yung  mars  Harry  kilt,  to  cum  back  home 
und  see  dese  heer  niggers  er  marchin  baccards  und 
furrards  all  ober  de  plantashun  wid  dem  dar  bin  jac 
kets  jess  lak  de  yankys  wo  in  de  war,und  er  beat- 
in  drums  dat  sounds  co  ole  marsa  same  as  er 
berryin.  Yu  jess  take  dem  ole  gynrments  outen 
dis  house  und'gib  to  Ellik,  und  tell  him  to  gib  em 
13 


194  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

to  de  boss  lef tenent,  und  tel  1  him  dat  corpul  Jon- 
sin  has  sinedhis  persish  in  de  milintery  cumpny, 
und  dat  he  aint  ergwine  to  war  no  mo." 

"Dats  whot  you  orter  dun  und  dun  fo  yu  jined," 
answered  Clarissa  deprecatingly;  "jess  gon  und 
fetched  all  dis  trubble  on  de  Ian  fur  nuffin.  Mouter 
node  ole  marser  was  ergwine  to  raise  er  harrykane 
when  he  seed  de  cussed  niggers  wid  dere  muskeets 
er  marchin  up  und  down  de  plantashun  lak  er  pas- 
sel  of  squorking  gooses.  I  got  wexed  mysef  und  I 
haint  fit  in  no  war  nudder.  Dars  dat  po  gal  er 
cryin  her  eyeballs  out,  und  her  po  lovyer  er  lying 
ober  yander  under  de  cold  clods  of  Furginny.  I 
don't  specks  nuffin  else  but  dat  ole  Laflin  ergwine 
to  get  all  de  niggers  in  de  New  United  States  mas- 
sacreed.  Needn't  pin  dere  fafe  to  whippin  de 
Souf  ef  she  is  flung  upon  her  back. 

Yander  cums  Ellik  now  lak  a  lunytik  wid  fed- 
ders  nuff  on  de  tip  eend  of  his  hat  to  stuff  a  fedder 
bed,  wid  his  neck  as  stiff  es  er  poker  und  his  eyes 
same  es  de  sun  in  de  clipse  er  sot  in  de  sky." 

"Halt !  Serlute  !"  came  a  self  addressed  com 
mand  from  the  negro  sergeant. 

"Aha!  missus  Jonsin,  how  is  yo  ladyship  dis 
a.  m?"  he  asked  in  the  stern  voice  of  an  officer. 

"I  haint  got  no  ladyship;  dats  whot  I  haint  got, 
nur  I  haint  ergwine  to  say  amen  to  no  sich  dooins 
nudder,''  replied  Clarissa  poutingly. 

"Hi!"  ejaculated  the  black  sergeant;  "why,  mis 
sus  Jonsin,"  he  continued  "De  las  time  I  dun  yu 
de  onner  to  wisit  yu,  yu  was  spashiatin  erbout  de 
fousend  d  oiler  peanny  corpul  Jonsin  was  agwine 
to  purchis  fur  yu,und  how  yu  was  ergwine  to  play 
de  hopperattiks  fur  yo  frens. 

"Ugh!"  grunted  Clarissa  scornfully,  "I  plays  de 
hopperattiks  now  ebery  day,  twell  my  fingurs  is 
clean  wo'  out  on  de  wash  bode,  er  slavin  fur  er  no 
count  miluntary  nigger  jes  lak  yu." 


THR   BROKEN    SWORD.  195 

"Nigger!"  exclaimed  the  sergeant  derisively, 
"Dere  is  no  niggers  in  dis  'Ian  ob  de  free  und  de 
home  ob  de  brave.'  We  is  sufferens  und  kings,  und 
our  wifes  und  dorters  is  queens;  und  yu  holes  de 
specter  in  yo  bans  ef  yu  node  it." 

Clarissa,  greatly  irritated  at  the  saucy  negroy 
placed  her  arms  akimbo,  and  fixing  her  gaze  upon 
him,  exclaimed  with  wrath, 

"Yu  go  erway  frum  here,  Ellik.  I  natally  spises 
yu  enny  how,  yu  hateful  creetur.  I  haint  er  puttin 
my  mouf  on  yu,  nigger,  but  fo'  dis  bressed  year 
runs  out,  yu  is  ergwine  ter  be  er  spexter,  und  de 
buzzards  is  ergwine  ter  be  er  huvverin  erroun  yer 
ole  bones;  jess  see  ef  day  don't.  Ole  Mars  Jon 
aint  ergwine  ter  stan  no  mo'.  Yu  und  Efrum  er 
trapesin  backards  und  farrards  ober  dis  plantashun 
wid  a  hep,  hep,  hep,  same  as  Captin  Grant  ur  Gin- 
url  Linkum.  Pend  upon  it,  nigger,  dem  white 
fokeses  in  de  town  fools  yu  to  def  yit." 

"Yu  sprises  me,  missus  Jonsin,"  responded 
the  negro  with  assumed  dignity.  "I  spishioned  yu 
wus  a  patrot." 

"No  I  haint,  nudder,  und  I  haint  ergine  tu  be 
no  patrot;  but  I  kin  tell  yu  whot  yu  is  ergwine  ter 
be  fo'  dis  year  runs  out — yu  is  ergwine  ter  be  er 
pennytenshur  conwick,  er  yu  is  ergwine  ter  be  his- 
ted  twixt  de  hebbens  und  de  yurth  on  de  gallus.  Ef 
yu  takes  my  wice  yu'll  burn  up  dem  ole  sojer  gyar- 
ments  und  tell  ole  Mars  Jon  yu  is  dun  und  cum 
back  to  stay.  Dat  is  de  moest  senserbulest  fing: 
you  can  doo;  dats  whot  me  und  Ned  dun  und  dun 
und  now  ole  mars  Jon  is  es  happy  es  a  cocker- 
roche  in  er  borrnl  of  flour." 

The  sergeant  waltzed  up  to  Clarissa,  and  taking 
her  with  some  violence  by  the  arm  sang  in  a  harsh 
unmusical  voice: 

"Oh:  say  kin  yu  see  by  the  dorhns  early  lite?" 


196  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

when  a  heavy  back  handed  blow  sent  the  sergeant 
howling,  as  Clarissa  shouted  in  her  anger. 
"Yaas,  I  sees  de  dorn  und  yu  sees  de  stors." 
"Ah  !"  he  exclaimed  "I  perseeves  yu   is   not  er 
patrot,"  and  he  commanded  "Attenshun  !"  eyes  to 
de  front !  forrard  march!"  and   marched  away  as 
he  whistled 

"Of  jay  bird  died  wid  de  hooping  coff, 
Und  de  sparrer  died  wid  de  kollery. 

Clarissa  made  one  observation  as  the  negro  mar 
ched  off,  ''Yu  will  be  ded,  sted  of  de  sparrer  und 
de  jay  bird." 

What  had  become  of  the  warning  paragraph  in 
the  reconstruction  calendar  ?  The  three  blood  red 
stars  that  punctuated  the  enigmatical  judgment, 
"sixty  days  within  which  to  prove  your  loyalty." 
Powers  that  be,  at  whose  shrine  shall  the  persecuted 
man  make  the  act  of  apotheosis  ?  Shall  it  be  at  the 
altar  of  Laflin,  the  freedman's  deity?  Shall  it  be 
in  the  presence  of  the  cringing  minions  who  will 
meek  at  his  calamity  and  laugh  when  his  fear 
cometh? 

An  arctic  night  has  dropped  down  upon  the  south; 
and  in  our  dense  blindness  we  know  not  in  what 
direction  lies  the  Serbonian  bog.  We  once  erected 
upon  this  soil  a  mighty  temple  which  wisdom  and 
virtue  consecrated  to  patriotism.  We  laid  the  edi 
fice  upon  foundations  of  concession  and  comprom 
ise;  and  we  were  vain  enough  to  believe  that  it 
would  stand  forever;  but  not  so.  So  the  dykes  of 
Holland;  the  mountains  of  Switzerland,  and  the 
surrounding  Sea  of  Venice  were  proclaimed  as  ever 
lasting  pledges  for  the  preservation  of  patriotism, 
but  intestine  struggles  engendered  those  revolution 
ary  factions  which  invited  the  attack  of  a  despot 
ism  and  secured  its  victory.  So  reasoned  with  him- 


THE    BROKEN*  SWORD.  197 

self  this  veteran  of  the  civil  war,  and  the  father 
of  a  loyal-hearted  daughter,  this  slave  of  a  power 
whose  minions  were  drunken  with  its  excess. 


CHAPTER    XVI. 


UNDER  THE    HAMMER. 

As  Colonel  Seymour  was  passing  a  group  of  ne 
groes  in  the  court-yard  this  irritating  remark 
from  one  of  them  arrested  his  attention.  "Dat 
dar  secesh's  home  is  agwine  to  be  sold  at  auction 
ter  day  under  a  margige,  und  de  boss  is  ergwine 
ter  buy  hit;"  and  very  soon  thereafter  a  half- 
grown  negro  boy  ringing  a  huge  bell,  and  bearing 
aloft  a  placard  as  imperiously  as  a  Roman  lictor 
bore  the  axe  and  fasces,  halted  before  him,  and  dis 
played  offensively  the  following  advertisement.. 
"By  virtue  of  a  certain  deed  of  mortgage  executed 
by  John  W-.  Seymour  and  wife  Alice  to  James  W. 
Bowden,  and  duly  recorded  in  the  proper  office  of 

the county,  and  value  duly  assigned  to  me, 

I  shall  sell  for  cash  on  Saturday,  the  6th  day  of 
November,  1«6 the  lands  and  premises  describ 
ed  in  said  mortgage  deed,  and  known  and  desig 
nated  as  Ingleside,  containing  twenty-five  hundred 
acres,"  Abram  Laflin,  assignee.  Thus  ran  the 
publication  that  may  possibly  furnish  a  key  to  the 
mystic  meaning  of  the  three  blood-red  stars  under 
the  written  order.  "Sixty  days  in  which  to  prjva 
your  loyalty."  To-day,  and  the  patrimonial  estate 


198  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

of  Ingleside  with  all  but  its  cherished  memories, 
will  pass  by  right  of  purchase  into  the  hands  of 
the  carpet  baggers  and  negroes;  to- day, and  the  axe 
of  the  barbarian  will  be  laid  at  the  roots  of  the 
ancestral  oaks;  to-day,  and  the  grained  corridors 
will  echo  to  ribaldry  and  wassail;  to-day,  and  the 
war  scathed  veteran  and  his  beautiful  daughter, 
like  the  pariahs  of  Hindoostan,  shelterless  vag 
rants,  will  beg  their  bread  and  home.  ''If  an  un- 
interpretable  destiny;  if  an  inscrutable  providence 
so  orders  and  decrees,  that  I  shall  surrender  this 
home,  yet  as  token  of  the  love  I  bear  this  wretched 
country,  I  will  abide  by  her;  I  will  cherish  her  as 
my  wife,  my  mother,  my  child;  I  will  defend  her 
with  my  sword,  my  speech,  my  life,  and  I 
will  be  to  my  oppressed  countrymen,  their 
friend,  their  champion  and  their  brother.  I  ab 
hor  these  natural  sons  of  Belial  who  are  whetting 
the  knife  that  will  drink  their  blood;"  so  ex 
claimed  the  old  soldier  without  a  blemish  upon  his 
name.  So  thought  the  fire-tried  Christian  who  was 
appealing  to  the  ultimate  tribunal  for  right;  so 
thought  the  man  who  was  harrassed  by  every  re 
source  of  vengeance,  as  he  turned  his  rigid  face 
from  the  jeering  crowd,  the  assassins  of  his  peace. 

The  old  man  with  fading  memory  tried  in  vain 
to  recollect  the  transactions  he  had  had  with 
James  W.  Bowden,  to  whom  he  once  owed  twenty- 
iive  thousand  dollars,  and  to  whom  he  had  con 
veyed  in  trusts  the  valuable  estate  of  Ingleside. 
He  asked  appealingly  of  his  daughter  "Have  you 
no  knowledge  of  these  affairs  that  will  aid  me  in 
this  extremity." 

"My  dear  father,"  she  answered  reflectively,  "I 
am  sure  the  debt  has  been  paid.  Indeed  I  heard  you 
say  that  you  paid  it  in  gold." 

"But  where  are  my  papers?"  he  asked;  "Scattered 
to  the  winds  by  the  school  mistress  and  her  negro 


THE   BROKEN    SWORD.  199 

pupils.  Shall  I  ever  be  able  to  exhibit  any  proof 
of  its  payment  ?  Can  you  not  assist  me  ?  Perhaps 
we  may  find  somewhere  the  cancelled  note." 

Bowden  was  dead  and  a  profligate  son  alone  sur 
vived. 

There  were  a  hundred  negroes  who  thronged  the 
negro  auctioneer. 

"What  is  I  bid  fur  dis  plantashun?"  "Fifteen 
thousand  dollars." 

*  'Hold!"  interrupted  Colonel  Seymour  now  advan 
cing.  "I  forbid  the  sale  of  this  land  or  any  part  of 
it,  the  debt  is  paid." 

"Ha,  Ha.  Ha,"  jeered  the  negroes,  "dat  dar  se- 
cesh's  mind  is  a  puryfied  wanderin,  shouted  a 
chorus  of  voices."  "Crv  de  bid  Mr.  auctioneer," 

V 

shouted  the  negro  Wiggins.  "Ef  dat  ar  white  man 
mak  eny  mo  sturbance,  we's  agwine  ter  slap  him 
in  de  jail  forthwid.  I  warrantees  de  title  fer  de 
boss."  "Twenty  thousand twenty-five  thou 
sand once,  twice,  free,  times  dun  und  gone  to 

Mr.  Laflin." 

The  whole  affair  seemed  an  illusion,  an  unnatural 
evaporation  of  land  and  houses — the  Ingleside  plan 
tation  dissipated  into  thin  vapor  like  the  genii  of 
the  sealed  casket  in  the  Arabian  Nights. 

"Great  God"  exclaimed  the  broken  hearted  old 
man,  "and  Laflin  the  wretch  !  Laflin  the  monster 
standing  there  in  dumb  show,  and  nodding  his 
head  in  savage  and  pantomimic  gravity  when  the 
hammer  fell. 

The  old  Colonel  and  his  daughter  rode  back  to 
their  home  perhaps  for  the  last  time.  One  of 
the  blood-red  stars  had  been  blotted  out  of  the  ty 
rants  calendar.  Two  more  like  the  painted  dolph 
ins  in  the  circus  at  Antioch  remained  to  be  taken 
down,  one  by  one.  The  search  for  the  missing 
document  was  renewed  when  they  reached  home 
but  unavailingly.  Alice  however  discovered  in  an 


200  THE   BROKEN    SWORD. 

old  ash  barrel  in  a  neatly  folded  package,  two  pa 
pers  signed  by  Abram  Laflin  to  her  father;  one  a 
note  for  five  thousand  dollars,  the  other  a  mort 
gage  securing  the  payment  of  the  note.  No  trace 
however,  of  the  twenty-five  thousand  dollar  mort 
gage.  Alice  carried  the  Lafiin  note  to  her  father 
whose  mind  for  a  moment  appeared  a  complete 
blank;  he  then  remembered  the  transaction  circum 
stantially. 

"Yes,  Yes,"  he  exclaimed  reminiscently;  "the 
note  was  executed  to  me  as  a  fee,  when  he  was  in 
dicted  and  acquitted  for  murder  in  1866.  Now  he 
may  let  slip  the  dogs  of  war,  and  'damned  be  he 
who  first  cries  hold!  Enough!'  " 

It  was  painful  to  observe  that  Mr.  Seymour  had 
become  so  injuriously  affected  by  the  exciting 
events  transpiring  from  day  to  day,  that  his  mind 
upon  matters  of  business  was  almost  inert.  Cer 
tainly  his  memory  was  fast  failing;  a  giving  away 
of  the  mental  poise;  and  in  consequence  thereof, 
poor  Alice  was  picking  up  here  and  there  great 
bits  of  trouble,  with  as  much  freedom  as  the  wash 
woman  gathers  sticks  for  her  fire.  "Tomorrow  she 
exclaimed  will  be  the  Sabbath.  Blessed  day  will 
it  bring  surcease  from  sorrow,  a  moment's  respite 
from  the  maelstrom  of  trouble  ?"  she  asked,  "I  can 
only  hope.  I  feel  sometimes  like  crying  aloud, 
'What  shadows  we  are,  and  what  shadows  we  pur 
sue'  !" 

When  the  morning  broke  tranquilly  upon  the 
old  home,  the  little  birds  were  caroling  in  the 
trees,  and  the  poor  girl  felt  that  her  care  worn 
spirit  should  rest  this  holy  Sabbath  day.  After 
the  morning  meal, her  father  perturbed  and  deject 
ed  walked  along  the  river's  bank, and  she  retired  to 
the  parlor  where  she  sang  and  played.  In  the  even 
ing  old  Ned  came  to  express  again  his  sense  of 
gratitude  to  his  young  mistress  and  his  old  master, 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  201 

and  observed  among  other  things,  remorsefully, 
how  foolish  he  had  been  to  take  up  with  the  vaga 
ries  of  the  negroes,  who  were  fomenting  so  much 
trouble.  "And  mars  John,  he  continued,  I  seed 
where  I  was  agwine  rong,  und  I  knowed  yu  wud 
fetch  me  outen  de  miry  clay.  Times  is  er  gitten 
so  mistrustful  dat  I  cum  ter  ax  yu  und  yung  missis 
mouten  me  und  Clarissa  stay  wid  yu  in  de  grate 
house  ?  Whar  we  kin  run  on  urrans  fo  yu  nite  und 
day." 

Old  Ned  like  the  hunted  rabbit  had  been  smoked 
out  of  his  hollow.  Reconstruction  with  its  insipid 
pageants  had  come:  It  had  emptied  its  cornucopia 
in  the  old  commissariat;  not  a  dust  of  flour,  nor  a 
fluid  dram  of  molasses,  nor  a  pound  of  bacon  had 
it  put  into  the  jug  or  sack  of  the  aged  and  the  poor; 
and  the  stars  and  stripes  waved  as  proudly  from 
its  mast  head  as  if  there  were  no  vacant  stomachs, 
no  hungry  freedmen  in  all  the  South.  Colonel 
Seymour  was  inexpressibly  glad  to  see  the  change 
that  had  come  over  the  spirit  of  the  old  slave.  He 
had  been  employed  in  many  situations  and  he  was 
faithful  in  all.  He  had  been  his  carriage  driver; 
he  had  packed  old  missis  trunks  when  she  went  to 
the  seaside  or  the  springs  in  the  happy  old  days; 
and  Ned  remembered  how  contented  he  was,  when 
an  imaginary  line  separated  peace  from  discord, 
plenty  from  squalor.  He  had  seen  old  missis  put 
away  in  the  ground,  and  with  him  were  feelings 
that  would  not  be  stifled  that  were  now  recasting 
his  nature,  however  sensual  and  hardened  i  had 
become  by  contact  with  vicious  companions.  When 
the  clouds  of  war  lowered  angrily  Ned's  faith  in 
old  missis  grew  stronger  and  stronger,  and  like  a 
watch  dog  always  on  duty,  so  Ned  was  always  at 
his  post;  to  obey  every  command,  to  anticipate 
every  wish.  It  was  Ned  who  held  ajar  the  old  plan 
tation  gate,  that  day  the  young  cavalier  rode  mto> 


202  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

the  deepening  shadows  on  his  way  to  Manassas, 
and  with  hat  in  hand  bade  him  good-bye  with  the 
entreaty,  "Be  shore  nnd  cum  back  nex  Saddy  to 
yo  po  mammy.  I'll  be  rite  heer  to  open  de  gate." 
It  was  Ned  who  reverently  placed  the  spray  of 
the  little  immortelle  upon  the  grave  of  Mars 
Harry  when  the  procession  had  turned  their 
faces  homeward.  It  was  Ned  who  carried  "old 
Missis"  in  his  arms  back  to  the  carriage  when 
she  swooned  at  the  grave,  and  now  he  had  come 
back  like  the  prodigal  confessing  his  sins. 

"If  Gord  spares  me  ter  outlive  ole  marser,  I'm 
agwine  ter  put  him  erway  lak  ole  missis  and  yung 
mars  Harry,  und  strow  his  grave  wid  hiasents  und 
lillys  ob  de  valley.  I  haint  agwine  ter  put  no  mo 
pendence  in  de  carpet  baggers,  dey  will  gouge  de 
eyeballs  outen  yo  hed,  und  I'm  agwine  ter  twist 
my  eyes  clean  erround  de  tother  side  when  I  pass 
es  de  ole  kommissery.  'Ole  glory'  is  jess  flirting 
up  its  skerts,  und  larfing  when  poor  ole  niggers  is 
agwine  erlong  de  rode,  jess  es  scornful  es  er  flop- 
eared  mule  when  he  pokes  yu  under  de  jaw  wid 
his  hind  foot,  widout  ary  warnin.  I  wishes  dat  de 
bosum  of  struction  wud  slam  de  ole  kommissery 
clean  clar  to  de  yurth,  dat  I  does." 

"You  seem  to  be  very  thoroughly  disgusted 
with  the  situation  Ned?"  observed  the  Colonel. 

"I  is  mars  John,  deed  I  is.  Ef  a  pusson  fools  yu 
won  time,  or  maybe  two  times,  er  yu  mout  say  free 
time,  you  mout  try  him  agin,  but  ef  he  fools  yu 
all  de  time  ole  Marser,  what  is  yu  agwine  to  do 
den.  mout  as  well  be  flinging  de  hook  in  de  crick 
for  Joshaway's  munny,  as  agwine  to  dat  ole  kom 
missery  wid  yo  happysack  speckin  arry  moufful  ob 
wittles." 

"Is  that  the  experience  of  all  the  colored  peo 
ple,"  the  Colonel  inquired  ? 

"No   sar,  no    sar,"   Ned    replied    with    feeling. 


THE   BROKEN    SWORD.  203 

"Dem  dat  carries  woters  to  de  conwenshun,  und 
drinks  de  bosses  sptrits  dey  girs  a  leetle  now  und 
den,  but  tother  wuns  sucks  *de  fingers  in  misury  all 
de  time,  specktin,  un  gittin  disappinted." 

"By  the  way  tell  me  something  about  Ephraim, 
how  is  he  getting  on,"  asked  the  Colonel. 

"Why  bress  your  soul  mars  John  he  is  clean 
outen  site;  er  totin  great  big  yaller  upper  lips  on 
his  sholders,  und  er  sword  dat  runs  on  a  wheel  on 
de  groun,  und  fedders  on  his  hat  same  as  a  pee- 
fowell.  He  is  dun  und  growd  outen  my  membrance. 
Dey  got  norated  eroun  dat  he  is  agwine  ter  marry 
a  white  gal  in  de  town,  und  Joshaway  und  Hannah 
has  dun  and  got  er  inwite  to  de  weddin." 

"And  Aleck,  what  is  he  doing,"  asked  the 
Colonel? 

"Ugh,  Ugh,"  exclaimed  Ned,  "now  yu  obersizes 
my  kalkilashuns,  mars  John.  He's  wusser  den 
Efrum,  er  uprarin  fine  housen  all  ober  dis  planta- 
shun." 

"The  savage  ?"  muttered  the  enraged  man.  All 
Laflin's  doings  I  suppose.  "Sixty  days  within 
which  to  prove  your  loyalty,"  he  muttered.  "The 
black  flag  of  the  buccaneers  of  reconstruction 
marked  not  with  death's  heads  but  by  red  stars!" 
A  score  of  carpenters  were  plying  their  vocation 
on  the  plantation.  A  confusion  of  sounds,  such 
as  sawing  and  hammering,  drowned  the  melody  of 
the  singing  birds,  and  Aleck  like  the  boldest  of 
pirates,  was  caracoling  here  and  there  giving  or 
ders;  and  fashionably  dressed  negro  women  strolled 
offensively  and  imperiously  over  the  grounds. 

"Mars  Jon,"  exclaimed  JSTed,  "I  dun  and  toleyu 
so;  now  yu  sees  fo  yosef." 

Before  the  deed  of  purchase  was  recorded,  the 
devilish  f reedmen  were  enforcing  their  claim  to  the 
plantation  by  visible,  notorious  and  violent  oc 
cupation.  The  colonel  and  Alice  were  sitting  in 


204  THE   BROKEN    SWORD. 

the  verandah  one  beautiful  starlit  night;  there  was 
scarcely  the  rustle  of  a  leaf  and  the  full-orbed 
moon  was  shining  with  a  radiant  splendour.  Of 
course  there  was  but  one  event  to  think  about. 
Was  it  not  a  grief  that  lay  like  a  dead  bulk  upon 
the  heart,  all  the  day  and  all  the  night;  and  peo 
pled  their  dreams  with  negroes  and  ogres  too  ? 

"Thank  God,"  exclaimed  Alice  "mother  is  out 
of  it  all.  They  were  but  heaping  the  fagots 
around  the  furnace  when  she  so  wearied  went  home 
to  her  eternal  rest.  Now  the  fires  are  all  consum 
ing." 

"My  daughter,"  said  Colonel  Seymour  dejected 
ly  after  awhile,  "I  will  go  to  my  grave  with  the 
knowledge  that  the  Bowden  debt  has  been  paid; 
and  not  one  cent  do  I  owe  upon  it.  It  is  pos 
sible  I  may  err,  but  as  God  is  my  judge,  this  great 
loss  has  come  upon  me,  through  the  devilish  mach 
inations  of  Laflin,  in  the  employment  of  the 
schoolmistress,  to  occupy  the  office  in  which  he 
knew  my  valuable  papers  were  deposited.  An  in 
geniously  devised  plot  doubtlessly,  but  one  distress 
ingly  successful.' 

"Mars  Jon,"  interrupted  Clarissa  quite  seriously, 
"Haint  yu  neber  foun  dem  papers  yit,  yu  was  er 
sarchin  fur  ?'' 

"No  indeed,  and  I  do  not  believe  I  shall  ever 
find  them." 

"Grate  King  !  Ole  marser  I  specks  dem  dere 
pizen  niggers  shoolickin  eround  de  offis  dun  und 
stroyed  em  outen  puryfied  cussedness  " 

"Quite  likely,"  rejoined  the  Colonel. 

"Lemme  studdy  er  minit,"  said  Clarissa. 
"Pears  lak  Ned  gin  me  sum  papers  to  stow  erway 
in  my  ole  blue  chiss.  Wud  yu  kno  hit  ef  you 
wast  to  see  hit  mars  Jon?  Don't  speck  it  is  wurf 
nuffin  do.  Ned  he  gin  hit  to  me  way  back  yander, 
I  dismember  how  long  ergo,  und  he  tole  me  to  put 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  205 

it  in  de  blu  chiss,  twell  he  ax  for  hit.  Don't  speck 
hit  is  ergwine  to  do  mars  Jon  no  good  do,  but  hit 
haint  ergwine  to  pizen  noboddy  ef  hit  don't  doono 
good.  I'm  ergwine  to  fetch  it  rite  now." 

The  old  gentleman  paid  but  little  attention  to  the 
negro  until  he  saw  her  returning  with  uplifted 
hand  like  a  stalking  spectre. 

"Now  mars  Jon,"  she  cried,  out  of  breath,  "yu 
read  dat  paper,  und  cide  fo  yoself." 

As  soon  as  the  old  man  took  the  paper  in  his 
hand,  he  forgot  his  gouty  joints,  and  his  white 
hairs;  he  forgot  who  he  was  or  where  he  was  and 
danced  a  succession  of  Scottish  reels  with  old  Clar 
issa,  as  an  unwilling  partner. 

"Why  father  !"  cried  Alice  in  great  fright,  Clar 
issa  !  Clarissa  !  "What  is  the  matter  with  my  dear 
father'*" 

"Oh!  Oh!  Oh!  The  mortgage  and  the  note!  The 
mortgage  and  the  note!"  wildly  screamed  her 
father.  "Thank  God  !  Thank  God  !" 

Clarissa,  rubbing  her  head  with  both  hands 
where  it  had  struck  a  pillar  in  the  wild  whirl  of 
the  dance,  emotionally  exclaimed,  "Bress  de  Lord; 
mars  Jon  has  yu  dun  und  gon  plum  crazy  \  I  neber 
seed  sich  shines  fo  in  all  my  born  days;  jambye 
busted  dis  ole  lied  wide  open  ergin  dat  postess." 

"Clarissa,"  excitedly  exclaimed  the  Colonel, 
"you  shall  have  forty  acres  and  a  mule  too." 

"Grate  Jurusulum  !  Mars  Jon,  whot  I  want  wid 
dat  Ian  ?  Und  I  dun  got  wun  mule,  und  de  Lord 
knose  he  tarrifies  de  life  outen  me." 

"Alice,"  remarked  her  father,  still  excited,  "I 
know  all  about  the  matter  now.  Old  Mr.  Bowden 
was  very  ill  when  I  paid  the  debt,  but  feebly  rais 
ed  himself  in  bed  and  marked  upon  the  face  of  the 
note,  'Paid  in  full.'  Here  it  is,"  said  the  Colonel, 
"and  he  surrendered  the  note  and  mortgage  in  the 
presence  of  his  worthless  son,  and  promised  that 


206  THE   BROKEN    SWOBD. 

he  would  cancel  the  record;  but  the  poor  fellow 
died.  His  son  witnessed  the  settlement.  I  had  no 
doubt  that  this  villainous  son,  knowing  that  his 
father  ha']  died  before  cancelling  the  mortgage, 
and  believing  that  in  the  terrible  condition  of  the 
country  I  could  not  prove  the  payment  of  the  debt, 
did  unlawfully,  maliciously  and  feloniously  con 
spire,  combine  and  confederate  with  the  wretch 
Laflin  to  defraud  me  of  my  property.  Thank  God 
the  beasts  have  been  hounded  to  their  lair.  I  re 
member  that  upon  coming  out  of  the  town  my 
hands  were  filled  with  letters  and  papers,  and  in 
getting  into  my  carriage  this  particular  package 
dropped  into  the  road  and  I  ordered  Ned  to  pick 
it  up,  and  I  doubt  not  that  while  I  was  busy  read 
ing  Ned  did  not  care  to  interrupt  me,  and  put  it 
into  his  pocket,  and  thinking  it  of  no  value,  forgot 
to  give  it  to  me.  I  feel  now  like  falling  down  upon 
my  knees  and  thanking  the  great  God  of  heaven 
and  earth  for  this, His  especial  providence  and  mer 
cy." 

It  is  said  that  in  one  of  the  beautiful  isles  in 
the  southern  Pacific — the  land  of  the  mango  and 
pineapple,  where  the  air  is  perpetually  perfumed 
by  the  aroma  of  flowers;  where  the  birds  of  every 
plume  and  every  voice,  like  animated  pictures  in 
gold  and  emerald  and  carmine,  flit  in  and  out  of 
whispering  branches;  where  pellucid  waters  ripple 
along,  their  voices  keyed  to  song  and  laughter — 
that  the  people  are  bestial  and  barbaric.  They  dis 
til  from  a  gum  that  exudes  from  one  of  their  um 
brella-top  trees  an  intoxicant  that  bestializes  the 
man,  woman  and  child  who  drinks  it,  and  he  or 
she  will  run  a-muck,  ferocious  in  temper,  devilish 
in  spirit,  and  betraying  a  morbid  desire  to  destroy 
whoever  or  whatever  they  may  encounter.  Here 
in  these  full  grown  years  of  nineteenth-century 
civilization,  amid  Christian  churches  and  minis- 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  207 

ters;  amid  ten  thousand  object  lessons  suggesting 
the  vanity  of  human  pursuits  originating  in  wrong; 
the  eternity  of  God's  punishments;  the  certainty 
and  swiftness  of  His  retributions — the  black,  de 
filed1,  distorted  genius  of  reconstruction  was  run 
ning  a-muck,  drinking  from  a  brazen  chalice  the 

ewaaf.cm  Arl    lirmnr 


sweetened  liquor. 


208  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 


CHAPTER   XVII. 


A    HOUSE    WARMING. 

A  skilled  artisan  in  the  employment  of  the  local 
authorities  had  been  for  many  days  surveying  and 
diagramming,  until  a  certain  area  of  the  old  planta 
tion  remote  from  the  mansion  was  arranged  in  ge 
ometrical  figures,  scientifically  corespondent  to 
<iach  other,  and  there  were  curves  and  angles  artist 
ically  precise.  If  the  reader  will  place  before  him 
a  miniature  flag  of  the  Turkish  empire,  the  align 
ment  of  the  tenements  of  the  negroes  will  be  seen, 
the  concave  line  of  the  crescent  indicating  the  po 
sition  of  the  modest  little  houses  of  the  freedmen, 
and  the  star  the  position  of  the  stately  mansion  of 
Mr.  Alexander  Wiggins,  a  former  slave  of  Colonel 
Seymour. 

Up  to  the  time  of  this  unblushing  trespass  upon 
the  private  domain  of  Colonel  Seymour,  and  in 
deed  afterwards,  the  negroes,  like  rodents,  had 
burrowed  in  colonies  in  old  dank  cellars  and  where 
ever  else  they  could  find  rest  and  shelter.  This 
unhappy  condition,  post-dating  the  surrender  at 
Appomattox,  had  a  demoralizing  effect  upon  them. 
They  became  spiritless  and  languid,  or  else  vicious 
and  vindictive.  They  felt  that  freedom  was 
an  illusion,  an  ignis  fatuus  that  they  had  been 
recklessly  pursuing,  that  lured  them  further  into 
an  impenetrable  morass.  In  the  excited  state  of 
their  ignorant  minds  they  had  been  indulging  fe 
verish  and  extravagant  projects;  chimerical  notions 
of  wealth  and  aggrandizement,  and  again  like  in 
ert  bodies  they  would  drop  lifelessly  into  the  very 
depths  of  despair.  It  is  impossible  just  now  for 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  2l  9 

the  most  active  imagination  to  conceive  a  condition 
of  human  society  more  wretched.  Tl  e  sympathies 
of  the  old  masters  were  moved;  their  humanity 
shocked;  their  very  hearts  grieved  at  the  injustice 
done  under  the  direction  of  the  freedman's  bureau 
in  this  violent  and  forced  state  of  things. 

"An  outrage,"  exclaimed  the  Colonel,  "long  ma- 
tared,  maliciously  devised,  and  boldly  perpetrated. 
Fanatics!  you  have  emancipated  by  fraud  and  vio 
lence  the  slaves  you  affect  to  pity;  you  have  doom 
ed  them  to  beggary,  outlawry,  prostitution  and 
crime!  You  have  filled  them  with  discontent  and 
made  them  to  feel  a  chain  they  never  felt  before, 
and  turned  against  them  the  care  and  considera 
tion  of  their  own  masters,  while  your  red  squad 
rons  of  fanaticism  are  careering  wildly  through  our 
plantations,  so  lately  scourged  by  the  hurricane  of 
war;  you  the  minions  of  a  power  confessedly  om 
nipotent.  Will  you,  too,  destroy  the  Doric  edifice 
of  our  morals,  the  Corinthian  porticoes  of  our  relig 
ion,  stifle  the  denationalizing  stream  until  it  swells 
in  great  tides  of  blood?  When  the  incendiary  is 
lighti  g  his  torch,  and  the  vultures  are  looking  on 
with  felon  eyes,  may  the  holy  memories  of  the 
past  give  you  pause." 

Thus  spoke  the  old  man  in  the  eloquence  of 
high-wrought  feeling,  for  his  country;  for  the  poor 
negroes  who,  like  bats  and  owls,  were  peopling 
dens  and  holes  of  darkness  in  this  "land  of  the 
free  and  home  of  the  brave." 

On  the  night  of  the  15th  of  September  the  ele 
gant  mansion  of  Mr.  Wiggins,  the  pampered  slave 
of  Laflin,  lay  smiling  and  smirking  in  beautiful 
frescoes  from  turret  to  foundation  stone;  astral 
lamps  hung  in  rich  festoons, shimmered  from  dome 
and  window  and  verandah,  lighting  up  the  broad 
pebbly  avenues  that  rayed  out  from  the  central 
vestibule. 
14 


210  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

It  was  a  night  of  surprises,  of  merriment,  of 
revelry,  of  rivalries;  when  the  bat  and  owl  came 
out  of  their  hollow,  the  cat  out  of  its  lair,  the  ne 
gro  out  of  his  cabin,  the  ku-klux  out  of  his  skin. 
It  was  a  night  that  punctuated  reconstruction  with 
a  red-hot  iron,  and  dropped  its  dead  ashes  upon  a 
score  of  hearth- stones.  It  was  a  night  that  stealth 
ily  removed  the  fifth  wheel  from  the  chariot  of  the 
bosses  and  dropped  its  inert  body  into  the  road. 

Ah!  there  were  surprises!  Corporal  Ephraim 
Gillum  was  to  take  unto  himself  a  wife,  and  Pris- 
cilla  Pinxly,  a  spinster,  was  to  take  unto  herself  a 
husband.  No  doleful  Jeremiads  in  this  carnival; 
no  forbidding  of  banns;  no  scandal  on  religion;  no 
trespass  on  the  law.  "Ef  dat  ar  white  gal  is  a  mine 
ter  jine  hersef  ter  dat  cullud  gemman,  who's  er- 
gwine  ter  hender?" 

There  were  ferns  and  smilax,  hollies  and  magno 
lias;  there  was  an  altar  embellished  with  carnations, 
red  and  white;  who  shall  say  it  was  profaned  by 
this  ceremonial '(  There  were  heavily  groined  par 
lors  reposing  in  velvety  carpets,  bric-a-brac  and 
rugs.  Here  were  the  minions  of  reconstruction  in 
red,  white  and  blue,  the  favorites  of  this  institu 
tional  era;  here  were  the  animated  beauties  of  the 
town  bedizened,  bejeweled  and  beflowered;  here 
was  'the  pompous  celebrant  in  patent-leather  slip 
pers  and  dress  coat,  Elder  Tut  tie,  paying  court  to 
the  ladies. 

Here  was  the  bride,  a  very  spare  lady  in  the 
forties,  with  fishy  eyes  and  gold  spectacles.  Here 
was  the  groom, as  black  as  an  antartic  midnight,  re 
posing  uncomfortably  in  a  celluloid  collar  that  cut 
a  transverse  line  through  both  cheeks,  dressed  in 
blue  uniform  with  yellow  epaulets  upon  his  shoul 
ders  as  large  as  sunflowers;  here  were  the  bats  and 
owls,  human  earth  burrowers,  who  were  not  v  ant 
ed  at  the  wedding  supper,  peeping  slyly  in  the 


THE   BROKEN    SWORD.  211 

windows;  here  was  Mrs.  Parthenia  Wiggins  in  silks 
and  satins,  and  her  lord  in  satins  and  silks;  here 
was  Joshua  an  octogenarian  in  regimentals,looking 
like  a  revolutionary  drum-major  in  masquerade, 
greeting  the  happy  hostess  with  the  exclamation: 
— "Pend  pon  it,  your  ladyship,  I  smelt  dat  barbe- 
ku  clean  clar  to  my  house  fore  it  was  kilt,"  paus 
ing  now  and  then  in  his  circuit  around  the  supper 
table,  to  cut  "de  pigon  whing;"  here  was  old 
Hannah,  in  hoops  and  frills,  "er  following  Joshua, 
frustated  lak,  kase  some  gal  or  udder  mout  run 
erway  wid  him  unbeknownist  to  her;  '  here  was 
old  Ned  "er  settin  in  der  chimney  corner  all  by 
his  lone  lorn  sef;"  and  then  here  was  a  skeleton 
at  the  feast,  a  spectre  at  the  banquet,  who  greeted 

neither  host,  groom  or  bride a  living  knight  of 

the  "  White  Camelia."  Then  there  was  a  pause;  then 
there  was  a  proclamation  by  the  host:  "All  hands 
eround  fur  de  fust  kertillien,"  and  there  was  a 
voluntary  shuffling  of  slippered,  sandalled  and 
booted  feet.  Then  the  music  struck  up  and  all 
went  merry  as  a  marriage  bell.  Castanets  and 
cymbals,  cornets  and  trombones,  distributed  huge 
chunks  of  melody,  chopped  off  the  "Star  Spangled 
Banner,"  "Rally  around  the  Hag  boys,"  "The  Girl 
I  left  behind  me,"  and  "Brudder  Ephrum  got  de 
coon  and  gone  on  ' 

As  the  dance  went  on  and  on  in  the  great  hall 
the  Kuklux  slipped  out  of  the  shadows  and  into 
the  parlor  and  concealed  himself  behind  the  em 
bowered  altar.  Ned,  at  his  suggestion,  stole  into 
the  dining  room,  and  taking  the  cover  off  of  the 
basted  pig,  brought  it  out  and  gave  it  to  the 
hideous  creature,  and  still  the  dance  went  on. 
With  uplifted  hand  Mr.  Wiggins  cried  "Tention 
ladies  und  gemman's.  All  you  who's  inwited 
to  the  weddin  follow  me  to  the  parlor,"  and  the 
band  struck  up  "Johnny  get  your  gun."  "Come 


212  THE   BROKEN    SWORD. 

parson,  you  shassay  in  fust,"  and  the  parson  struck 
out  in  an  Irish  reel,  and  the  crowd  followed  like 
flotsam  upon  a  current  of  water,  tossing  here  and 
there,  up  and  down,  automatically,  to  the  music. 

"Now  breddin  und  sistern,"  exclaimed  the  par 
son  in  a  nasal  sing-song,  "range  erlong  side  de 
haltar  whilst  I  spaciate  upon  dis  weddin.  Now 
den,  fustly  und  foremustly,  who  gin  dis  bride 
away  ?'' 

"I  does''  replied  Mr.  Wiggins,  pompously  step 
ping  to  the  front. 

"'Well,  den,  I'll  persede  wid  de  sallymony. 
Fustly  und  foremostly,  I'm  agwine  in  my  sebenty 
seben  year,  please  God  I  lives  to  see  de  harvest 
moon,  und  I  has  been  a  exhauster,  und  locus  prea 
cher,  und  surkus  rider,  und  slidin  elder  fust  und 
last,  und  I've  jined  black  ones  und  y allow  ones 
und  yallow  ones  und  black  ones,  und  now  I'm 
agwine  ter  jine  a  white  und  black  one  togedder  in 
de  yoke  of  bondage,  und  in  the  bonds  of  purger- 
tory,  ef  I  haint  upset  fore  I  gits  froo  by  de  kom- 
misserys  ob  de  debbil." 

"Land  sakes  alive!"  ejaculated  Joshua,  as  he 
brought  his  hollow  jaws  together  with  a  resound 
ing  crash,  "Don't  talk  about  de  kommissery,  par 
son;  I'm  hungry  rite  now.'' 

"Now  den,  ef  der  is  any  pusson  or  debbil,  here 
or  here  erbout,  who  is  agwine  to  nullify  dis  wed 
din,  I  commands  dem  ter  hold  dere  peace  for- 
eber  mo." 

Instantly  a  hooded  figure  of  gigantic  stature, 
clad  in  a  gown  of  dragons'  tongues,  with  small  red 
lanterns  burning  in  the  socket  of  his  eyes,  arose 
behind  the  parson.  The  audience,  first  paralyzed 
with  fear,  now  gave  shriek  after  shriek  which  fill 
ed  the  house,  as  he  gave  an  unearthly  yell  and 
with  the  basted  pig  cudgelled  the  black  parson 
over  the  head  as  he  leaped  with  a  frantic  cry  into 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

the  bosom  of  the  spectacled  bride,  and  then  through 
glass  and  shutter  out  of  the  window. 

"Kuklux!  Kuklux!"  shrieked  the  t-rrified  ne 
groes,  as  in  desperation  they  fled  out  of  the  house. 

Joshua,  in  his  frantic  efforts  to  escape,  ran  his- 
head  against  a  heated  stove  and  red  hot  coals  of 
fire  were  scattered  over  rug,  carpet  and  floor.  As 
the  last  society  lady  somersaulted  out  of  the  win 
dow,  great  tongues  of  fire  were  lapping  up  frieze 
and  cornice,  and  facade,  and  the  cresent  and  star 
disappeared  in  a  ghastly  cincture  of  fire. 

As  Jake  the  Kuklux  was  passing  near  the  cabin 
of  Joshua  the  next  morning, on  his  way  to  the  dark 
recesses  of  the  swamp,  he  heard  groans  and  inco 
herent  exclamations  that  caused  him  to  knock  at 
the  door  and  ask  what  was  the  matter.  No  answer 
came,  but  the  groans  were  louder  and  more  fre 
quent.  He  opened  the  door  and  entered.  Joshua 
was  lying  on  the  bed  swathed  in  red  flannel  and 
Hannah,  with  a  bandanna  tied  around  her  head> 
was  tossing  to  and  fro  in  an  old  rickety  cha'r, 
holding  her  jaw  in  both  hands. 

"Hello  !"  exclaimed  the  Kuklux,  "What  ails 
you  folkses.' 

"Who  dat  a  woicing  dat  lamentashun?  '  cried 
Joshua.  "Go  lang  away  wid  yu  white  man,  I  aint 
agwine  to  be  pestered,"  he  continued. 

"Hi  there  Aunt  Hannah,  whal  ails  you  ?" 

"Oh  my  Lord!"  exclaimed  Hannah,  amid  her 
groans.  "Go  lang  Avay  frum  heer  I  haint  agwine 
to  put  mysef  on  ekality  wid  no  low  down  white 
trash  lak  you  is.  '  And  Hannah  kept  ser- rawing 
in  the  rickety  chair.  Jake  took  a  slouching  stride 
toward  the  fire-place  and  making  the  letter  V  with 
his  fingers  spat  in  the  fire  and  accidentally  over 
turned  a  stew  pan  in  which  two  or  three  small  cat 
fish  were  cooking. 

"Fo  my  King!  white   man,"  exclaimed  Hannah 


214  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

wrathfully,  "What  hes  yu  gon  und  dun  now  ?  I 
wishes  yu  would  stay  outen  dis  house.  Now 
whar  is  Joshaway  agwine  to  git  his  supper  er  me 
udder?" 

This  lamentation  caused  Joshua  to  unswathe  the 
bandage  about  his  eyes  and  he  groaned  louder  and 
longer.  "Dem  was  de  onliest  mouffel  ob  wittles  in 
dis  house,  und  now  me  und  Hannah  hes  got  ter 
suck  de  fingers  twell  de  good  Lord  send  us  mo,"  he 
exclaimed  mournfully. 

"You  lay  dar  spectin  de  Lord  to  send  you  mo, 
und  you  will  be  stark  naked  as  a  picked  ginny 
hen,"  said  Hannah. 

Jake  squinted  his  right  eye  as  he  drawled  out: 

"You  knows  Aunt  Hannah  dat  de  Lord  does  feed 
his  lambs,  don't  you." 

"How  cum  Joshaway  enny  of  his  lambs  ?  Mouter 
say  he  is  de  debbils  old  billy  gote,"  answered 
Hannah  savagely. 

"Kase  I  is  one  of  his  lambs,"  said  Joshua.  "How 
cums  I  goes  to  Filadelfy  meeting-house  ebery 
fourth  Sunday, und  how  cums  I  courages  de  moners, 
und  how  cums  I  goes  to  de  baptizin  und  totes  de 
passonsgown?  Tell  me  dat." 

"Ugh!  Ugh  !"  grunted  Hannah;  "I  nebber  seed 
de  lams  cutting  up  sich  shines  in  a  grate  house  lak 
yu  dun  las  nite;  yu  went  to  de  weddin,  didn't  yu 
Joshaway  ?  Und  yu  seed  de  kommissery  ob  de  deb- 
bil;  did  yu  see  de  Lord's  lambs  dare  ?  und  yu  set 
yo  mouf  for  de  barbeku,  didn't  yu,  und  yu  seed  a 
harrykane  too,  didn't  yu?'' 

"Oh,  yu  go  erlong  way  frum  here,"  said  Joshua, 
"I  natally  spises  dese  heer  biggity  niggers  dat  is 
tarnally  butting  up  agen  de  good  Lord'sjedge- 
ments.  You  is  fell  frum  grace,  dat's  what  yu  done," 
replied  Joshua  deprecatingly. 

"Is?"  ejaculated  Hannah.  "Und  yu  fell  fram 
something  last  nite.  What  was  dat  ?" 


THR    BROKEN    SWORD.  215 

"Now  dat  dere  tantalizing  nigger  thinks  I  fell 
outen  de  window,  but  I  dumb  down  de  jice,  dat- is 
what  I  dun,"  angrily  replied  the  old  negro. 

"When  you  seed  de  bride  und  de  passon  und  de 
tother  lams  lak  yu,  Joshaway?  tell  me  dat!"  con 
tinued  old  Hannah  provokingly. 

"Nuff  sed  Hannah,  yu  dun  und  sot  my  po  hed  er 
akin  wusser.  You  is  de  debbils  own  billy  gote  not 
me." 

Reaching  down  into  his  greasy  haversack  the 
Kuklux  brought  out  a  great  chunk  of  barbecue, 
and  flourished  it  around  old  Joshua's  head  like  a 
musician's  baton. 

"Dar  now  Hannah,  what  I  tole  yu,  you  sees 
whar  my  fafe  is,  don't  yu?''  said  Joshua  smiling. 
"Don't  de  Scriptur  sez  how  dat  ef  yu  hes  fafe,  ef 
yu  hes  fafe,''  he  repeated  with  emphasis,  "you  can 
tote  away  mountains,  tell  me  dat?" 

"It  mout,"  answered  Hannah  quizzically,  "und 
den  agin  it  mout'nt.  Do  hit  say  anyfing  erbout 
barbyku?"  continued  Hannah,  "Tell  me  dat." 

"Oh,  go  long,  nigger,"  tartly  answered  Joshua; 
"I  haint  ergwine  ter  argify  de  question  no  mo  wid 
a  debilish  nigger  dat  actally  mistrusts  de  bible;  yu 
is  dun  und  sot  in  yo  ways,  und  all  Filadelfy  church 
aint  ergwine  ter  save  yu,  nudder." 

"Not  ef  it  is  ergwine  ter  preach  dat  dar  kind  ob 
fafe.  I  wudn'tput  no  pendence  in  de  slidin  elder 
ef  he  was  to  say  pine  plank  dat  dat  dar  barbyku 
is  in  de  bible." 

"Don't  de  scriptur  say  how  dat  apassel  ob  horgs 
broke  er  loose  outen  de  gap  und  run  down  er  hill 
und  choked  up  de  sea?  Tell  me  dat?  Und  what  does 
yu  make  barbeku  outen?  Catfishes  I  spose!"  asked 
Joshua  contemptuously. 

Hannah  turned  her  back  upon  the  old  negro  with 
the  observation,  "You  is  er  black  satan  kotin  de 
scriptur." 


216  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

And  all  the  time  the  musician's  baton  was  mark 
ing  curves  around  old  Joshua's  head,  and  Joshua's 
hollow  eyes,  as  if  under  the  spell  of  a  mesmerist, 
were  moving  mechanically  right  and  left,  l^ft  and 
right,  while  his  great  mouth  was  yawning  like  a 
cavern  in  a  red  marl  pit. 

"Boss,"  he  exclaimed,  "ef  yu  eber  specks  tu 
giv  me  ary  mouful  ob  dat  ar  barbyku,  fur  de 
Lawd's  sake  drap  hit  rite  inter  dis  heer  mouf,"  and 
he  brought  his  old  jaws  together  with  a  resounding 
crash,  like  an  alligator  biting  at  a  leaping  frog. 

The  ku-klux,  without  further  teasing,  gave  the 
big  chunk  of  meat  to  Joshua,  who  devoured  it  like 
a  starved  dog. 

"Haint  yu  ergwine  ter  give  me  nun?"  asked  Han 
nah. 

Joshua  slowly  replied  between  bites, 

"Yu  is  got  er  gripin  misery  now,  Hanner,  und  ef 
yu  wuz  ter  vour  dis  peppery  stuff  und  tuck  wid  a 
gripin  pain, I'd  neber  hear  de  eend  ob  it.  De  nex  time 
I'm  ergwine  ter  give  yu  a  grate  big  hunk,  perv\idin 
yu  haint  got  no  gripin  misery  ur  nuffin,"  he  con 
tinued  as  he  gnawed  the  last  piece  of  gristle  from 
the  bone. 

"Boss,''  he  observed,  as  he  wiped  his  capacious 
mouth,  "ef  I  hadn't  bin  ticed  erway  by  dat  nigger 
sea-sawin  ober  dar,  I  wudn't  er  bin  in  dis  heer  fix- 
ment.  De  women  fokeses  fetched  de  debil  in  dis 
heer  wurld,  und  bress  de  Lawd  when  dey  is  ceasded 
dey  is  ergwine  ter  take  him  erlong  wid  dem.  Does 
yer  see  how  slak-sided  I'se  got?  Look  at  dese  ole 
holler  eyes;  yu  kin  jamby  play  marbles  in  dem. 
I'm  ergwine  rite  strate  back  ter  ole  marser,  lak  dat 
progidle  man  in  de  scriptur,  und  I'm  ergwine  ter 
tell  him  he  mout  hab  my  freedom.  I'd  ruther  hab 
de  tarrifyin  fever  dan  be  a  franksized  woter.  I 
wishes  ole  Laflin  had  er  died  fo'  he  wuz  born,  up- 
sottin  de  niggers,  und  dey  ergwine  erbout  lak  rag- 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  217 

ged  ruffins,  wid  nuffin  ter  do  but  beatin  drums  und 
wotin  yaller  tickets.  Dar  aint  narry  grane  o'  rest 
nite  nor  day.  Peers  lak  Hanner  she  gits  sick  de 
wery  wustest  time  in  de  wurld,  und  when  she  aint 
ailin  she's  tarnally  moufin  erbout  no  meal  in  de 
gum  und  no  catfishes  in  de  stew-pan.  De  Lawd 
knows  dis  ole  stractified  nigger  lies  sucked  misery 
long  ernuff.  I  haint  neber  node  ole  marser  ter 
turn  his  back  on  nobody,  und  es  fur  Miss  Alice, 
her  purty  white  hans  is  wide  open  all  de  time,  und 
she  do  say  'Uncle  Joshaway'  de  hebenliest  I  eber 
seed.  ' 

With  these  heartfelt  expressions  the  old  negro 
maintained  a  dead  silence,  and  Hannah,  like  the 
Temanite  of  old,  essayed  to  answer, 

"Yu  needn't  blame  it  all  on  me,  dat  yu  needn't. 
Enybody  er  seein  yu  er  wourin  up  dat  grate  big 
hunk  o'  meat  mout  hab  node  yu  wuz  er  horgish 
nigger,  und  hit  maks  no  diffunce  who  parishes  so- 
yo  stumick  is  full.  Er  lyin  dar  now  er  pickin  yo 
ole  snags  und  er  hikkerpen  es  full  es  er  dorg  tick, 
und  me  er  settin  here  er  fairly  rackin  wid  mizry." 

''Hush  Hannah,"  interrupted  Joshua,  'knuff  is 
nuff,  ef  yu  had  er  wourd  dat  barbyku  und  tuck 
deny  sick,  dar  wudn't  been  no  sleep  in  dis  house 
dis  nite.  'Twant  kase  I  hankered  fo  dat  leetle 
grain ..pb  fresh  meat  dat  I  didn't  wide  wid  yu,  twas 
kase  t  knowd  it  was  gwine  gin  yo  stummick." 

'kBress  God,"  answered  Hannah,  "you's  er  pow 
erful  doctor, er  puttin  yo  mouf  on  sick  folkses  dat 
ispeert  und  harty,"  and  Hanna  began  sea  sawing 
again. 


218  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


THE    WRIT    OF    EJECTMENT. 

Shortly  after  the  events  narrated  in  the  last 
•chapter,  the  announcement  was  made  by  Clarissa 
that  a  white  man,  "imd  dat  biggety  nigger  Ellic, 
was  at  de  do  to  see  ole  marser."  The  interview 
occurred  on  the  verandah. 

Abram  Laflin,  the  carpet-bagger,  introduced  the 
subject  as  follows  : 

"I  observed"  said  he,  "in  passing  the  court 
house  on  yesterday,  that  you  had  advertised  my 
home  to  be  sold  to  pay  a  debt  of  five  thousand 
dollars  due  you.  Will  you  be  kind  enough  to 
make  the  calculation  and  inform  me  what  is  due 
you,  principal  and  interest?" 

"Certainly  I  will,  with  great  pleasure,"  replied 
the  Colonel.  "Here  is  the  account  accurately  com 
puted." 

"Make  your  calculations, Mr.  Wiggins, and  see  if 
the  gentleman  is  correct,"  he  said  to  the  negro. 

Mr.  Wiggins  adjusted  his  gold  rimmed  eye 
glasses,  fingered  a  moment  the  gold  chain  upon 
his  immaculate  shirt  bosom,  scratched  his  head  a 
time  or  two  with  the  point  of  his  gold  pencil  and 
passed  the  statement  to  his  lord  and  master. 

"Ah,  ha,"  exclaimed  the  carpet-bagger,  "Four 
thousand  three  hundred  and  fifty-seven  dollars  and 
thirty-three  and  one -third  cents,  and  not  five  thous 
and  dollars  as  you  have  it,  Mr.  Seymour." 

"Ah,  very  well"  replied  Mr.  Seymour  "You  may 
settle  by  my  calculation  if  you  wish,  if  not  the  sale 
.shall  go  on." 

"Give  me  the  paper  and  pencil,  Mr.  Wiggins,  I 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  219 

will  make  the  calculation  for  myself,'  said  the 
carpet-bagger.  '-The  result  as  yoii  have  it  sir,  is 
correct.  Here  is  your  money  sir." 

"Now,  sir,  I  will  show  you  the  gate,"  replied 
the  Colonel  with  asperity.  "Good  morning,"  and 
the  two  men  locked  arms  and  went  away. 

As  the  enraged  man  was  entering  th«  verandah, 
he  was  greeted  unexpectedly  and  obsequiously  by 
Joshua,  with  "Compliments,  ole  Marser.  I  have 
fetched  you  some  long-necked  gode  seeds;  spected 
yer  would  lak  to  hab  dem,  mars  Jon." 

"Yes,  Yes,  I  am  glad  you  remembered  me  Josh 
ua.  I  thought  my  old  slave  had  quite  forgotten 
me,"  replied  the  Colonel. 

"You  mout  hab  spected  dat  ole  masser,  but  I 
knowed  all  de  time  you  wus  de  onliest  fren  I  had 
in  de  wurrell,"  answered  the  old  negro. 

"I  am  surprised  to  see  you  looking  so  badly, 
Joshua.  Why  your  hair  is  as  white  as  cotton, 
and  your  clothes  too  are  ragged  and  dirty,  and 
there  are  great  hollows  in  your  cheeks;  what  have 
you  done  with  yourself  old  man  ? 

The  old  negro  dashed  a  great  big  tear  from  each 
eye  as  he  replied  hesitatingly,  "Better  ax  tother 
fokeses  dat  ar  questun,  ole  marsa;  better  ax  de 
bosses  at  de  kommissery;  I'sebeenfroo  de  froos 
sens  I  seed  you  sar,  mommucked  up  monstrus,  dat 
I  is.  Dem  dar  pizen'd  carpet-baggers  tole  us  cul- 
lud  fokses  ef  we  didn't  do  jess  lak  dey  sed,  dat  dey 
was  agwine  to  put  us  bak  in  slavery,  und  dey 
skeert  us  jam  ni  to  def,  dat  dey  did.  Dey  uprared 
a  grate  big  sto  in  de  town,  und  sakes  alivt- !  de 
moest  lasses  und  horg  meat  und  flower  und  backer, 
und  sich  lak  yu  nebber  did  see,  mars  Jon,  und 
likker.  too;  und  wun  ob  de  bosses  he  cum  to  de  do 
und  sez,  sez  he  boys,  fetch  yer  happysaks  und 
jimmyjons  ebery  Tuesday,  und  eberry  Saddy  nite 
de  Lord  sens  und  fill  dem  chok  full.  I  clar  mar- 


220  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

ser,  I  felt  jess  lak  I  wus  in  Paradise,  wid  de  an 
gels  er  harpin  pon  golden  harps  und  soppin  lasses; 
und  I  took  dat  white  man  at  his  word,  und  I'se 
been  on  de  rode  twixt  my  house  und  de  sto  fur 
seben  weeks,  backards  und  forrards,  a  totin  my 
ole  jimmyjon  un  happysak;  I  clar  pon  my  Marser 
in  Heben,  I  haint  eben  got  de  rappins  ob  my  finger 
from  dat  sto  yit.  De  boss  wud  laf  und  say  de 
rashuns  had  gin  out  fore  I  got  dere,  und  to  cum 
agin  nex  Tnesday  sho;  und  mars  Jon,  I  se  jess  nach- 
ully  a  tired  to  def,  widdout  a  moufful  ob  wittels 
in  my  house  fur  me  nur  Hanner  nudder,  und  we 
bof  a  perishin  to  def.  Ole  marsa,  hain't  yer  got 
nary  ole  ash  tater,  nur  a  1-etle  piece  ob  meat  skin 
yer  kin  gib  dis  ole  darky  jess  to  pacify  his  stum- 
mik,  seems  lak  I  jess  hab  to  draw  my  galluses  rale 
tite  roun  it  to  keep  it  frum  creepin  fru  my  mouf. 

The  old  soldier  of  fifty  battles  looked  down  upon 
the  poor  old  negro  in  his  squalor  and  emaciation 
and  wretchedness,  and  the  tears  came  into  his  eyes, 
too.  as  he  said, 

"If  there  is  anything  in  this  house  to  eat,  Josh 
ua,  you  shall  have  all  .you  want.  I  pity  you  from 
my  heart,  old  negro.  These  people  are  not  your 
friends  nor  mine.  The  day  will  come  when  you 
will  know  them  as  they  are — enemies  of  every  one 
who  will  not  wash  their  dirty  linen." 

"Eber  yu  spoke  de  truf,  Mars  Jon,  you  spoke  it 
den — hit's  de  God's  truf." 

"Clarissa!''  called  the  Colonel,  "Clarissa!"' 

"Sar!"  came  Clarissa's  voice  from  the  kitchen. 
"I'se  er  cummin,  ole  marsa,  jes  es  fast  es  I  ken." 

As  she  saw  Joshua  she  threw  up  her  hands  and 
impulsively  exclaimed, 

"Fur  de  Lawd's  sake.  Joshaway,  whot  do  ail  yer 
eny  way?  I  faut  yu  wuz  er  gostis  er  settin  outen 
here  wid  ole  marser.  Po  ole  nigger!  Duz  sis  Han 
ner  luk  lak  yu  duz?  De  grabeyard  is  er  yornin  fer  yu 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  221 

rite  now."  And  Clarissa  placed  her  hand  feelingly 
upon  the  old  negro's  white  head,  saying  the  while, 
'"Po  Joshaway!  Po  nigger!"  while  Joshua  covered 
his  face  with  his  knotty  hands  and  his  feeble  body 
shook  as  with  a  spasm. 

In  obedience  to  orders.  Clarissa  pWvd  before 
Joshua  a  huge  dish  of  boiled  ham,  cabbage,  pota 
toes — Irish  and  sweet — and  the  old  negro  in  the 
joy  of  his  heart  sprang  nimbly  to  his  aged  and 
aching  feet  and  ''cut  de  piggen  whing  jes  ter  sho 
ole  marsa  how  spry  und  suple  he  wus." 

"Bress  Gawd!  '  he  gratefully  exclaimed,  "I'se 
been  happy  two  times  in  my  life — wun  time  when 
I  jined  de  miluntary  cumpny  when  de  niggers  wus 
play  in  'de  jay  bird'  on  der  tootin  horns  (den  I  wus 
er  fule),  und  tother  time  wus  dis  here  time." 

After  devouring  like  a  starved  brute  the  bulk  of 
the  food  before  him,  he  considerately  placed  into 
his  old  beaver  hat  choice  bits  and  fragments,  layer 
upon  layer,  with  the  observation, 

"I  wudn't  er  tasted  a  moufful  o'  dis  good  truck 
ef  I  hadn't  er  node  Hanner  wuz  erg  wine  ter  git 
her  shar.  Jes  er  watchin  me  now  lak  a  sparrer 
hawk  er  set  tin  on  er  lim!  Tank  yer  a  fousun  times, 
ole  marser!  Tank  yn,  too,  sis  Clarsy;  tank  ebery- 
body  in  de  whole  wurld.  Ole  marsa,"  he  contin 
ued,  "mout  I  hab  jes  wun  wurd  wid  yer?" 

"Why,  certainly,  Joshua;  what  more  can  I  do 
for  you?"  asked  the  old  man. 

The  old  negro  put  his  hand  to  his  face  as  if  he 
were  shielding  his  eyes,  and  asked  sheepishly, 

"Mars  Jon,  ef  me  und  Hanner  wus  ter  turn  nig 
gers  ergin,  jes  lak  slabery  times,  wud  yer  tuck  us 
home — yu  und  Miss  Alice?" 

"I  would  not  have  you  do  that,  Joshua;  but 
whenever  you  like,youand  Hannah  can  bring  your 
belongings  to  the  office  and  Alice  and  I  will  always 


222  THE   BROKEN    SWORD. 

be  your  friends.    You  shall  never  suffer  any  more 
for  something  to  eat  or  wear  as  long  as  we  live." 

"Tank  yer,  ole  marser,  tank  yu,  a  fousand 
times!"  Joshua  replied,  as  he  brushed  away  great 
liquid  beads  that  were  chasing  each  other  down  his 
haggard  cheeks.  "Now  I  mus  be  ergwine,  Mars 
Jon,"  and  the  old  stiffened  joints  bore  homeward 
a  filled  body  and  a  full  heart,  as  he  sang  in  an  un 
tuned  but  sweet  voice, 

"Oh  de  way's  so  delightful  when  I  saryes  de  Lord, 
Oh  de  way's  so  delightful,  journey  on." 

As  the  sun  was  going  down  the  old  Colonel  look 
ed  across  the  field  and  saw  Joshua  and  Hannah 
with  great  bundles  upon  their  heads  coming  to 
ward  the  mansion — coming  back  to  the  old  home; 
coming  back  to  be  just  as  humble,  just  as  faithful, 
just  as  watchful  as  in  the  happy  old  days;  coming 
back  to  run  errands  if  need  be,  with  joints  stiffen 
ed  by  hardships  and  old  age,  but  with  hearts  so 
light  and  trustful;  coming  back  like  homing  pig 
eons  to  roost  under  old  master's  wing  in  the  dove 
cote.  Was  there  ever  such  a  people  before?  The 
sweetest  experience  in  the  domesticity  of  the  South 
will  vanish  forever  when  the  last  old  white  woolly 
head  is  laid  low,  when  the  ghostly  smile  is  given 
to  old  mistress  from  the  death  bed,  and  the  last 
good-bye  is  said  to  "ole  marser  und  ole  missis"  as 
the  death  film  overlays  the  eye.  "Tak  keer  ob 
yosefs,  ole  marser  und  ole  missis,  und  meet  me  up 
yander."  So  thought  the  old  master  as  with  liquid 
eyes  he  looked  upward  to  the  vaulted  sky. 

"Seben  wreeks"  the  old  negro  weighted  down  by 
the  ever  accumulating  burdens  of  life — its  disap 
pointments,  its  troubles — had  with  unsteady  gait 
and  frequent  halts  stepped  off  each  rod  and  fur 
long  twixt  "my  house  und  de  sto,  backards  und 
forards,  toting  de  jimmyjon  und  de  happysak." 


THE   BROKEN    SWORD.  225 

"Fur  seben  weeks"  the  torrid  sun  with  its  blistering 
heat  had  scorched  the  old  negro's  head,  and  crisp 
ed  the  old  negro's  black  skin  until  it  was  spotted. 
For  seven  weeks  a  vacuum  deep  and  broad  lay  be 
tween  the  inner  coatings  of  the  famished  stomach 
immeasurable  and  unfathomable.  For  seven  weeks- 
"Old  Glory''  waved  its  welcome  at  one  end  of  the 
commissariat,  and  stark,  pallid  want  walked  out 
without  a  ration  and  Haunted  its  rags  at  the  other. 
Poor  old  negro,  but  what  worth  is  freedom  with 
out  its  pains  and  penalties;  what  worth  is  the 
huge  commissariat  without  the  freedmen,  and  what 
worth  is  the  freedmen  without  the  commissariat  \ 
Oh  how  happy  the  old  negro  in  "de  offis  of  ole 
marser."  By  fits  and  starts  old  Joshua  would 
awake  throughout  the  nights  and  call  to  Hannah, 
"Ole  womun,  duz  yer  kno  whar  yer  is  a  roosting 
to  night  ?  Aint  agwine  to  de  crick  fur  cattish  in  de 
mornin.  I  kno  whar  my  wittles  is  er  cummin  t'rum, 
bress  de  Lord.  Cum  rain  ur  shine,  I  haint  nebber 
agwine  hongry  agin,  no  mo.  Old  marsa  dun  und 
said,  ole  nigger  yer  shall  nebber  want  fur  sumting 
to  eat  und  sumfing  to  ware  no  mo,  und  I  nebber 
cotched  ole  Mars  Jon  in  a  lie  yit.  Has  yu,  Hanner?" 

"No,  dat  1  haint,  nur  Miss  Alice  nudder,  "  re 
plied  Hannah.  kkl  haint  got  no  mo  skeer  erbout 
me,  Joshaway,  dan  a  billy  gote.  I  kno's  when 
Miss  Alice  flings  a  dumplin  in  de  pot  for  hersef,  she 
is  agwine  to  fling  wun  in  dare  fur  me  too. 

"Pears  lak,  Hanner,  I  kin  heer  my  stummick 
ebery  now  und  den  nachully  singing  de  ole  ship  ob 
Zion,  hit  is  so  full  ob  ole  marser' s  good  wittles." 

Bright  and  early  the  next  morning  the  old  ne 
gro  was  standing  in  the  wide  open  door  of  the 
office,  swinging  his  arms  in  exercise  like  a  prize 
fighter,  and  occasionly  "cuttin  de  piggen  wiring 
out  of  doors,"  as  he  said,  "dat  yung  misses  mout 
see  how  he  could  twist  his  foots  erbout."  As  he 


224  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

was  skipping:  about  the  yard  he  discovered  as  it 
were,  a  moccasin  snake;  a  red,  white,  and  blue 
stake  about  two  feet  long  in  the  ground  near  the 
office,  and  he  knew  what  it  was  and  called  in  a  fit 
of  rage  to  Hannah.  "Jess  cum  und  see  what  dem 
dratted  niggers  has  dun  gon  und  dun.  Lord  a  mas 
sy  !  Duz  dem  pizened  willians  fink  dey  kin  ober- 
ride  dis  here  plantashun  wid  me,  imd  Ned,  und 
ole  marsa,-  und  yung  misses,  und  yu  und  Claissy  a 
fendin  for  deselvs  >  I'se  agwine  to  lode  up  my 
muskit  dis  bery  nite,  und  de  fust  nigger  dat  cums 
pestering  our  white  fokses  on  dis  here  Ian,  I'se 
agwine  to  shoot  two  pounds  of  hot  led  into  his  kar- 
kas.  Tak  dis  ole  streked  striped  stick,  Hanner, 
und  burn  it  up,"  and  he  jerked  the  peg  out  of  the 
ground  as  if  it  had  been  an  aching  molar  in  his 
gum,  and  threw  it  violently  into  the  fire-place. 

"Who  upon  de  yurth  did  fetch  dese  pizened 
stiks  on  dis  Ian?  I'm  ergwine  tr  roun  dis  yer  plan 
tashun,  und  maybe  I'll  fine  sum  mo  ob  de  ring- 
streeked-und-striped  things,  er  painted  jes  like  'ole 
Glory'  out  yander  in  de  town,  jes  ter  fool  niggers 
und  git  dem  sassinated  lak  er  passel  o'  polecats/' 

While  Joshua  was  making  the  "grand  rounds" 
•over  the  plantation  a  carriage  with  a  pair  of  beau 
tiful,  high-stepping  horses  rolled  up  to  the  door, 
and  two  "gemmen  of  culler"  alighted  and  walked 
with  unnatural  dignity  to  the  door  and  rang  the 
bell.  Clarissa,  of  course,  obeyed  the  call,  and  in 
their  presence  was  so  bewildered  that  she  asked 
them  into  the  library.  Placing  into  her  hands  their 
€ards  de  visite,  upon  which  were  written  the  names 
of  the  "Hon.  Alexander  Wiggins"  and  the  "Hon. 
Ephraim  Gillam,"  she  carried  them  to  Colonel  Sey 
mour. 

Instantly  the  devil  was  aroused  in  the  old  man, 
and  he  told  Clarissa  to  tell  them  to  get  out  of  the 
house. 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  225 

Clarissa,  in  executing  the  order,  said,  "Ole  mar- 
ser  says  how  dat  yu  niggers  must  go  back  out  er 
doors.  Jes  tak  yosef  outen  dis  house  immegit." 
Then  upon  recognizing  one  of  the  nejrroes,  she  en 
quired,  Haint  dat  yer  Ellick,  wid  dem  fine  close 
iind  shoes,  und  gold  specks,  und  bever  hat,  comin 
into  dis  house  lak  yer  was  a  king,  or  a  gineral,  or 
sumfing  I  don't  kno  what?  What  is  yer  doing 
here  in  ole  marser's  house,  anyhow?  I  specks  yer 
is  up  to  sum  devilment  rate  now." 

"My  name  is  not  Ellic,  replied  the  negro,  und  I 
am  not  up  to  devilment.  I  am  de  prieter  ob  dis 
manshun  house,  und  my  stinguished  friend,  Mr. 
Ephrum  Grillum  und  me,  hez  cum  to  sarv  a  rit  ob 
jectment  upon  Mr.  Semo  fortwid." 

"Lord  hab  marcy  upon  my  soul!"  exclaimed 
Clarissa  in  great  excitement,  "Ef  yer  sarves  dat 
dar  fing  on  ole  marsa,  dares  gwine  to  be  a  res- 
surreckshun  in  dis  grate  house  fortwid,  yer  haint 
agwine  to  lib  to  git  bak  to  town.  You  und  dat 
udder  nigger  better  tak  yerselvs  offen  dis  Ian  fore 
marser  sees  yer;  he  spises  yer  worse  den  enymock- 
sin  snake  in  de  crick,  und  yer  nose  it." 

"Ah,  well,"  the  negro  replied  arrogantly,  "Yu 
jess  gib  him  dis  writ  ob  'jectment  und  tell  him  dat 
Mr.  Wiggins  und  his  lady  will  return  ter-morrer 
ebenin  at  ate  o'clock  und  tak  persesshun,  und  see 
dat  yu  prepars  a  bed  in  de  best  chamber  in  dis 
mansion  fur  him." 

"Jes  yer  fling  dat  pizen  fing  on  de  flo.  I  aint 
erg  wine  ter  mess  my  nans  up  wid  no  sich  nasty 
trash,  und  yer  tak  yersefs  olt'en  here— don't  I'm 
agwine  ter  set  Jube  on  yer,  yer  hateful  creetur. 
Ugh!  ef  yer  gits  any  ling  pared  on  dis  plantashun 
hit's  erg  wine  ter  beaded-fall  ter  kill  yu  cussed 
nio-gers  Dat's  de  bed  yer  is  ergwine  ter  git  ter 
morrer  at  ate  o'clock,  'member  dat!  Ugh!  I  specks 
15 


226  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

when  dat  time  cums  yer  will  be  ded  und  gon  rite 
strait  ter  torment." 

Clarissa  seized  the  tongs  and  prodded  the  docu 
ment  upon  the  floor  as  if  it  had  been  a  tarantula, 
then  holding  it  at  arm's  length,  muttering  the 
while  like  a  savage,  brought  it  to  Colonel  Seymour 
with  the  observation, 

"Mars  Jon,  yer  mout  as  well  gib  up  dis  grate 
house  und  de  plantashun,  too,  to  de  stinkin,  out- 
dashus  niggers,  don't  dey  is  ergwine  ter  tarrify  de 
life  outen  yer,  und  me  too." 

To  this  the  old  man  deigned  no  reply,  but  un 
folding  the  paper  and  reading  it,  he  concluded 
there  was  but  one  thing  to  be1  done.  For  one-third 
of  a  century  he  had  been  a  highly  respected  com 
municant  in  the  Episcopal  church;  orthodox  and 
consistent  in  his  views  and  observances,  but  upon 
reading  the  insulting  document  he  swore  like  "our 
army  in  Flanders." 

"Clarissa,"'  he  exclaimed,  "bring  me  my  pistols. 
I  will  defend  my  own  with  my  life,  and" — 

"Mars  Jon,"  interrupted  Clarissa,  "I'se  skeert 
ob  dem  dar  shootin  iruns.  What  is  yer  ergwine 
ter  do,  ole  marser?  Is  yer  ergwine  ter  hab  a  resur- 
reckshun  in  de  grate  house?  Sposin  yer  und  young 
missis  gits  kilt — whot  in  de  name  ob  Gawd  is  er 
gwine  ter  cum  ob  tother  ones?  Sarve  Ellick  rite  ef 
he  gits  masskreed;  but  sposin  yer  und  Ned  gits 
kilt,  whot  is  ergwine  ter  cum  ob  me  und  Miss  Al 
ice?  Yer  is  too  brash,  ole  marser." 

The  old  soldier  was  quiet  for  amomenrt,  and  then 
he  called  Ned  to  him. 

"Yes,  Mars  Jon,  here  I  is,  sar.  Whot  yer  want 
now,  Mars  John?"  Ned  asked  humbly. 

"Go  and  tell  Mr.  Jake  Flowers  to  come  here  at 
once." 

"Sartinly,  Sar,  inejitly,  Mars  Jon." 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  227 

And  in  a  short  time  Mr.  Flowers,  accompanied 
by  Ned,  saluted  the  Colonel  with, 

"What  are  your  orders  for  to-day,  sir?" 

Now,  thought  the  Colonel,  I  shall  marshal  a 
force  more  terrible  than  an  army  with  banners.  I 
shall  recruit  my  regiment  from  the  "Invincible 
Empire/'  and  I  shall  tear  down  and  let  them  recon 
struct  if  they  can.  We  will  march  to  victory  un 
der  the  flag  of  the  'White  Camelia,'  shall  we  not, 
Mr.  Flowers?"  asked  the  Colonel. 

"Well,  when  I  wants  to  play  demnation  wid  ther 
niggers,  I  don't  fight  under  no  other,"  was  the  sen 
tentious  answer  of  the  regulator. 

"Come  into  my  library  a  moment,  sir." 

As  the  regulator  was  ambling  along  he  put  his 
two  fingers  to  his  mouth  and  accidentally^)  expec 
torated  "ambeer"  in  the  eye  of  old  Jupiter,  the 
fox  hound,  which  set  up  a  prolonged  howl  and 
caused  Clarissa  to  exclaim  with  great  warmth; 

"Mars  Jon,  did  yer  see  dat  ou'dashus  white  man 
a  spettin  dat  dar  backer  juce  in  ole  Jube's  tother 
eye?  Wun  ob  dem  is  outen  now,  und  I  specks  dat 
fafefulest  ole  dorg  will  go  plum  blind.  He  is  de 
fafefulest  creetur  on  dis  hole  plantashun.  Po'  ole 
Jube!  Nebber  mind,  Clarsy  is  ergwine  ter  set  yer 
on  dat  speckled-face  white  man  when  he  cums  out- 
en  dat  do,  und  is  ergwine  ter  give  yu  sum  mo  wit- 
ties  ef  yer  chaws  him  good.  Po'  ole  Jube!"  And 
Clarissa  walked  back  into  the  kitchen  with  Jube 
following  her,  with  the  further  observation,  "Twixt 
de  niggers  und  de  low-down  white  trash  I  haint 
got  no  chusen — hit's  a  half  duzzen  wun  way  und  a 
half  duzzen  tother  way,  und  de  debbil  tak  de  dif- 
funce." 

The  Colonel  drew  a  chair  up  to  the  table  and 
asked  the  regulator  to  be  seated. 

"To-morrow  night  at  eight  o'clock  sharp  I  will 


228  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

take  possession  of  Ingleside,  peaceably  if  I  can, 
forcibly  if  I  must." 

"When  the  Prince  of  the  Thebaird  sent  this  mes 
sage  to  the  queen  of  lower  Egypt,  "To-morrow  I  will 
knock  at  the  door  of  your  palace  with  the  hilt  of 
my  spear,"  she  returned  this  warning,  "And  I  will 
welcome  you  with  bloody  hands,  and  the  croco 
diles  of  the  Nile  shall  devour  your  carcass." 

"What  shall  be  our  message,  Mr.  Flowers?" 

The  regulator  thought  a  little  dreamily  for 
awhile,  and  then  with  the  usual  squint  in  the  right 
eye  replied  drowsily, 

"Wall,  thar  is  two  ways  to  kill  a  nigger  unbe 
knownst  to  him.  I  kin  ku-klux  him,  or  I  kin 
strike  him  with  forked  litenin;  but  I  haint  got  am 
munition  enuff  to  kill  a  hole  passul  at  wunce." 

The  Colonel  unfolded  and  laid  upon  the  table  a 
large  sheet  of  paper,  such  as  engineers  use  in  dia 
gramming,  and  began  in  a  perfunctory  way  to  mark 
off  lines,  angles,  eccentric  and  concentric  figures, 
until  he  fixed  the  point  of  his  pencil  suspiciously 
at  the  upper  abutment  of  a  bridge  that  spanned 
a  rivulet,  with  this  remark, 

"Just  here,  sir,  must  be  the  point  of  attack. 
This  is  the  only  defensible  position  upon  the  plan 
tation.  If  the  malicious  negroes  pass  this  bridge, 
all  is  lost.  Now,  my  friend,"  he  continued,  "he 
roic  diseases  must  be  healed  with  heroic  remedies. 
You  and  I  are  old  soldiers.  Up  and  down  the 
Chickahominy  our  army  would  have  been  tin  sol 
diers  but  for  our  sappers  and  miners.  Now  you 
may  sap  and  mine  to  your  heart's  content,"  he 
said  jocularly.  "Do  you  understand,  Mr.  Flow 
ers?" 

"No,  not  eggzactly,"  replied  Flowers.  "Dos  yer 
want  ther  cussed  niggers  drounded?"  he  asked. 

"No,  only  frightened  so  they  will  let  me  alone," 
replied  the  Colonel. 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  229 

"Frightened!"  ejaculated  the  regulator.  "Wall, 
fokeses  in  gineral  gits  frightened  before  they  gits 
drounded,  don't  they?  If  I  don't  mistrust  you,  Ker 
nel,  you  wants  the  bridge  upsot,  and  then  you 
wants  the  kerridge  upsot,  and  then  you  wants  the 
blamed  niggers  upsot,  altogether  in  the  crick." 

"If  in  your  opinion  my  language  bears  that  con 
struction,  you  may  proceed,"  said  the  Colonel. 

"Eggzactly  so,"  replied  the  regulator.  "I  may 
percede  with  another  percession  and  a  funeral  at 
the  tail  eend  of  it.  Eight  o'clock,  sharp!"  reitera 
ted  the  regulator,  and  waving  his  hand  backwards 
at  the  old  man  in  the  verandah,  cried  back,  "I  will 
be  thar  or  thar  abouts,"  took  his  leave. 

Clarissa  tried  to  sick  "ole  Jube"  on  the  regula 
tor  as  he  passed  through  the  gate,  but  the  old  dog 
looked  sheepishly  into  Clarissa's  face  and  wagged 
his  tail,  as  much  as  to  say,  "Ef  yer  wants  enybody 
sicked  on  dat  white  man,  jes  sick  yersef." 

Nero  never  planned  the  destruction  of  Rome,  nor 
Titus  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem  with  a  more 
implacable  spirit  then  did  the  regulator  the  des 
truction  of  the  upper  abutment  of  the  wooden 
bridge  on  the  Ingleside  plantation.  As  the  bold 
man  stood  upon  the  bridge  contemplating  the  work 
to  be  done,  and  then  upon  the  cold  full  orbed  moon 
bathing  its  face  in  light,  cumulus  clouds,  and  then 
on  the  cold  waters,  he  said  to  himself;  "A  soldier 
boy  that  can  climb  the  elements  in  the  Crater  fight 
and  butt  his  head  agin  the  stars,  aint  pestered  by 
little  diffikilties  when  it  comes  to  drownin  nig 
gers." 

He  threw  off  his  coat,  took  up  the  crowbar  and 
went  to  work.  The  apron  was  then  propped  up 
upon  skids  too  weak  to  bear  the  weight  of  a  car 
riage,  but  so  skillfully  as  to  ward  off  suspicion  in 
case  the  structure  or  any  part  of  it  should  fall.  At 
7:30  sharp  the  work  was  done  and  completely  done, 


230  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

the  pitfall  was  laid,  and  well  laid,  and  at  7:40  a 
black  cavalcade,  noisy  and  ruffianly,  were  gallop 
ing  on  the  way  to  take  by  force  actual  possession 
of  Ingleside,  against  the  emphatic  protest  of  its 
owner  and  against  the  law  of  the  land.  They  were 
marching  with  their  trombones  and  their  Hags, 
flags  striped  and  starred,  just  like  the  one  that 
laughed  in  the  faces  of  the  starved  negroes  that 
marched  in  platoons,  desperately  hungry,  out  of 
the  back  doors  of  the  Commissariat.  Just  like  the 
one  ruffian  Laflin  wrapped  about  his  beastly  person 
when  he  said  to  poor  oppressed  Seymour,  "My 
freedmen  may  make  reprisals  whenever  they  please 
in  this  accursed  country."  Just  like  the  flag  that 
waved  from  the  stern  sheets  of  the  batteau,  that 
cold  sleety  night,  when  Washington  was  cutting 
the  ice  out  of  his  way  upon  the  Delaware.  Just 
like  the  "Old  Glory"  that  Ethan  Allen  wound 
around  his  head  at  Ticonderoga.  Just  like  the 
flag  that  thrilled  every  heart,  that  Philip  Barton 
Key  immortalized  in  the  flrst  battle  hymn  of  the 
Republic. 

"  I  is  the  Star  Spangled  Banner  long  may  it  wave, 
Over  the  land  of  the  free  and  the  home  of  the  brave." 

"Ah,  no,"  the  Southern  patriot  would  say  "Qur 
hot  sun  has  tarnished  its  bright  stars,  has  made 
black  and  dingy  the  blue  field,  and  see!  it  is  blush 
ing  ever  so  red,  as  it  is  made  to  accentuate  the  hor 
rors  of  reconstruction."  But  the  flags  were  com 
ing,  so  were  the  horses,  and  so  were  the  ne 
groes,  and  so  were  the  trombones,  and  so  was  death, 
each  in  a  vain  attempt  to  bridge  the  chasm  before  8 
o'clock  sharp.  Ah,  that  crash,  that  shriek,  that 
doom!  The  affrightened  horses  break  from  the  de 
scending  carriage  and  scamper  like  zebras  into  the 
open  fields  of  Ingleside.  The  uniformed  escort 
turn  their  horses  heads  and  scamper  toward  the 
town,  even  the  trombones  have  ceased  to  sound 


THE    BKOKEN    SWORD.  231 

now,  but  there  are  echoing  hoofs,  and  there  are  the 
wails  of  the  dying,  coming  up  from  the  darkened 
abyss,  and  the  moon  is  still  bathing  its  face  in  the 
watery  clouds  overhead.  What!  art  thou  a  proph 
etess,  Clarissa,  that  thou  shouldst  have  said  "I 
specks  when  dat  time  cums  yer  will  be  ded  and 
gone  rate  strait  to  torment?" 


232  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 


CHAPTER    XIX. 


THE  CORONER'S  INQUEST. 

The  revolutionary  iconoclasts  had  fully  estab 
lished  their  sway  in  the  worst  and  most  irritating 
forms;  their  resources,  directed  by  irresponsible 
and  offensive  authority — controlling  the  fortunes, 
hopes  and  fate  of  all  classes — ramified  and  extend 
ed  throughout  the  South.  Mountebanks  sat  in 
judgment  upon  the  lives  and  liberties  of  a  van 
quished  people;  everywhere  violating  all  the  guar 
anties  of  freedom.  The  alarming  vibrations  of  this 
unhallowed  power  were  felt  in  every  home.  It  was 
a  matter  of  anxious  and  fearful  thought,  "What 
must  be  the  result  of  collisions  that  are  sure  to 
come?"  It  were  vain  to  threaten  consequences 
badgered  as  the  people  were  into  passive  submis 
sion  by  a  power  that  ruled  supreme — a  power  that 
was  conducting  its  operations  with  unmeasured 
cruelty  wherever  the  ill-starred  Confederacy  had 
raised  its  hated  crest.  Retaliation  swift  and  sure 
pursued  a  few  of  the  misguided  negroes  whose 
black  hands  were  upraised  to  smite  the  South. 
Now  and  then,  under  the  shadow  of  the  citadel 
that  was  garrisoned  by  the  pensioned  slaves,  the 
victims  of  the  murderous  knife  or  deadly  bullet 
would  be  found.  Hence  the  South  was  the  harvest 
field  for  the  functionaries  who  delighted  in  the 
sudden  visitations  of  Providence,  and  who  looked 
for  the  vultures  upon  circling  pinions  above  the 
river  as  couriers  of  cheering  messages;  in  the  lan 
guage  of  the  negroes,  as  the  "sky  sheruffs"  who 
served  due  notice  upon  the  oppressed  taxpayers  of 
this  patronizing  government  of  the  freedmen. 


THE   BROKEN    SWORD.  233 

By  a  custom  that  obtained  very  generally  in  the 
South  in  the  post-bellum  days,  there  was  a  divis 
ion  of  offices  inequitably  made,  however,  between 
the  carpet-baggers  and  the  negroes;  and  to  the  ne 
groes  was  assigned  among  others  of  inconsiderable 
revenue,  the  office  of  county  coroner.  This  office 
for  many  generations  before  the  war  was  a  sine 
cure,  but  a  pictorial  page  now  appears  in  the  his 
tory  of  reconstruction,  electrotyped  in  disgusting 
caricatures.  The  office  of  coroner  was  constructed 
out  of  a  mediaeval  original;  it  was  both  ancient  and 
honorable — a  remnant  of  the  feudal  system  that 
superseded  other  forms  of  government  in  Europe 
before  and  since  the  crusade.  So  considerable  were 
its  revenues  and  dignity,  that  the  lords  chief  jus 
tices  of  the  King's  Bench  of  England  coveted  and 
enjoyed  its  emoluments  and  title;  and  to  descend 
from  an  antiquity  so  dignified  and  remote,  from 
bewigged  and  begowned  lords  justices  to  15 th 
amendment  freedmen,  was  quite  a  sheer  descent. 
But  reconstruction  came  with  fantastical  ideals; 
with  its  own  peculiar  and  irritating  forms  and  in 
stitutions,  and  the  political  fabric  was  ludicrously 
inverted  and  the  freedmen  appeared  to  walk 
through  the  air  on  stilts. 

When  post-mortem  investigations  were  exceed 
ingly  rare  in  a  county  that  boasted  of  its  health- 
fulness  and  its  obedience  to  law,  the  per  diem  of 
the  coroner  was  fixed  by  legislative  enactment  to 
ten  dollars,  with  certain  enumerated  charges,  such 
as  summoning,  swearing  and  empanelling  the  jury 
of  inquest.  But  now  there  was  an  epidemic  of  ac 
cidental  deaths  in  this  phenomenal  era.  Among 
the  negroes  the  most  natural  thing  was  to  die— to 
die  from  exposure,  from  starvation,  and  sometimes 
from  heroic  doses  of  manhood  suffrage  They  died 
in  the  river,  in  the  creek,  in  the  lowgrounds. 
Uncle  Elijah  Thorpe,  the  coroner,  would  sit  mood- 


234  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

ily  by  the  hour  on  his  dilapidated  stoop,  intently 
gazing  into  the  firmament  above  him  for  the  ap 
pearance  of  "de  sky  shurruff,"  and  when  the  cir 
cling  scavengers  of  the  country  would  flap  and  dip 
their  pinions  below  the  fringe  of  the  cypresses 
that  bordered  the  river,  his  spirits  would  revive, 
and  refreshing  smiles  would  play  hide  and  seek  in 
the  black  caverns  of  his  face. 

The  old  coroner  like  Judge  Blackstock,  appeared 
to  be  the  "survival  of  the  fittest."  He  had  come 
out  of  the  toils  of  slavery  with  his  hair  as  white 
as  the  snow,  and  with  lines  in  his  black  face  as 
if  a  "new  ground  plow"  had  been  running  fur 
rows  into  it.  He  was  an  old  man  when  the  great 
guns  were  celebrating  the  emancipation  of  four  mil 
lion  slaves.  He  was  an  old  man  when  the  bosses 
placed  into  his  horny,  gouty  hand  the  elective  fran 
chise.  He  was  an  old  man  when  he  looked  out  one 
night,  when  the  stars  were  twinkling  in  the  mid- 
heavens,  and  saw  the  luminary  of  freedom  with  its 
bewildering  corruscations.  He  was  the  advanced 
guard  of  the  freedmen  who  welcomed  the  agent  of 
the  bureau  with  waving  of  hats  and  clapping 
of  resounding  hands.  He  was  the  file  leader  of 
Laflin  s  black  reinforcements.  When  Elijah  be 
gan  to  grow  rich  out  of  the  spoils  of  his  office  he 
observed  in  a  confidential  way  to  Laflin, 

"Ef  de  niggers  keeps  er  gitten  sassinated  lak 
deys  agwine  on  und  de  jurer  don't  gin  out,  dis 
heer  Soufland  is  agwine  ter  be  a  sametary  from  one 
eend.to  de  tother;  the  buzzards  is  lak  a  passel  ob 
rode  hands  er  cummin  und  agwine,"  and  then  to 
disarm  the  carpet-bagger's  cupidity  he  continued 
with  a  lugubrious  cast  of  countenance,  "By  de  time 
I  gits  de  rashuns  from  de  kommissery  und  de  sper- 
rits  fur  de  jurer  dars  a  mity  leetle  spec  left  ob  de 
poreseeds.  De  pay  boss  haint  ekal  to  de  sponsu- 
ality  of  de  offis." 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  235 

These  post-mortem  inquiries,  like  all  other 
functions  of  the  time,  presented  most  ridiculous 
contrasts.  While  the  circling  carrion  crows  were 
looking  for  dead  negroes  in  the  river  and  swamps, 
the  negro  women  in  the  cabins  and  kitchens  were 
watching  the  movements  of  the  coroner;  and  when 
ever  the  public  became  advised  "dat  de  corps  ob 
humans  was  to  be  sot  upon"'  if  the  news  came  in 
the  dead  of  the  night,  an  outcry  would  go  from 
cabin  to  cabin;  dusky  faces  would  appear  at  dirty 
windows  and  an  inquiry  in  staccato  from  some  sis 
ter  would  arouse  her  neighbour. 

"Oh  !  Sophia  Ann,  has  yu  heerd  de  news, or  is  yu 
pine  blank  ded  '(  De  crowner  has  dun  und  put  de 
saddle  on  ole  "sametary"'  und  de  saddle-bags  und 
de  jimmyjon  too,  und  agwine  ter  set  on  er  corps 
fortwid." 

"Hush!  sister  Becky,"  would  come  the  answer; 
"Aint  you  got  anudder  tack  of  hystericks;"  and 
rayless  jaundiced  lights  would  appear  in  windows; 
then  the  screeching  of  fowls  in  the  coops,  then 
pots  would  simmer  and  boil;  then  little  Bill  would 
be  jerked  out  of  bed  with  the  angry  exclamation, 
"Fore  de  King,  I  believes  dis  heer  yungun  would 
sleep  clar  froo  de  jedgment  day  und  wudn't  heer 
nary  trumpet.  Git  outen  heer  yu  Bill  und  fetch 
dat  ar  steer  und  de  kaart  fore  de  door  fortwid." 
And  then  Bill,  yawning  and  gaping  and  grunting, 
and  twisting  his  arms  over  his  black  head,  would 
stagger  with  tangled  feet  to  the  stable  and  com 
mand, 

"Cum  outen  dis  heer  door  ole  Linkum  fore  I 
whacks  yu  ober  de  hed  wid  dis  heer  palin."  And 
then  old  Linkum  would  toss  his  head  and  start 
towards  Bill  with  a  boo — o-o  and  then  back  into 
his  stall  with  another  boo-oo,  and  then  Maria 
would  shout  from  the  kitchen, 

"Yu  Bill  has  yu  und  ole  Linkum  gone  plum  ter 


236  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

sleep?  Why  don't  yu  fetch  dat  aggrawating  steer 
outen  dar  ?"  And  then  she  would  turn  to  pack 
away  the  pies  and  chickens  in  the  basket, and  then 
ole  Linkum  and  Bill  and  Maria  and  "Ladybird," 
the  ugly  fice  dog,  would  be  reinforced  upon  the 
road  by  a  picturesque  caravan.  There  would  be 
women  and  children  of  all  sizes,  ages  and  condi 
tions;  then  the  hard  cider  carts,  fakirs  and  pie  wo 
men,  then  the  old  parson  and  the  deacons  and  the 
singing  sisters,  then  the  man  with  a  hand  organ 
and  a  monkey,  then  a  score  of  yelping  hounds, 
curs  and  fices,  then  the  coroner  in  battered  beaver 
and  green  goggles,  astride  his  ttopped-eared,  nee- 
bitten  mule,  "ole  Samitary,"  all  with  laughter.jest 
and  song  hurrying  to  the  scene  of  the  catastrophe; 
while  the  poor  misguided  subjects  of  the  investiga 
tion  would  be  staring  with  great  lack-lustre  eyes 
into  the  sky. 

Upon  this  occasion  the  rising  sun  as  he  passed 
through  the  mist  veiled  his  face  from  a  spectacle 
terribly  ghastly.  Four  black  corpses  in  silks  and 
satins  and  tawdry  lace,  with  upturned  faces,  lay 
rigid  with  a  seasaw  motion  in  the  ooze  and  water; 
and  a  huge  black  object,  like  the  back  of  a  levia 
than  with  striped  banners  in  his  nostrils,  dammed 
up  the  stream  that  flowed  with  a  sluggish  current 
from  the  river.  This  then  was  the  end  of  the  car 
nival;  the  due  return  upon  the  writ  of  ejectment. 

What  Utopian  dreams  were  whispered  into  ears 
into  which  the  eddying  waters  were  intoning  a  re 
frain  !  Shall  the  mistress  of  Ingleside  descend  in 
to  this  cold,  forbidding  flood  with  the  keys  of  her 
broad  domain,  and  place  them  as  a  symbolical  de 
livery  of  title  into  hands  so  rigid  and  nerveless, 
that  never  guarded  its  portals  with  one  night's  vi 
gil  ?  Shall  the  officers  of  the  law,  under  these 
broken  arches,  endorse  a  due  return  upon  the  writ 
of  ejectment  \  When  we  see  the,  star  spangled 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  237 

banner  down  there,  dyeing  the  waters  as  it  seemed 
with  blood,  "with  the  Union"  down,  does  it  bind 
us  to  an  allegiance  to  the  powers  that  sent  these 
outlaws  upon  their  mission  of  assassination. 

Joshua  was  very  wretched  when  he  heard  of  the 
horrifying  disaster  that  overreached  the  human 
beagles  that  were  pursuing  their  quarry  so  heart 
lessly.  Old  negroes  like  Joshua  and*  Ned  were 
fast  becoming  disillusioned;  they  had  danced  at 
tendance  to  Laflin  and  his  pampered  slaves  when 
they  were  desperately  hungry;  they  had  marched 
and  counter  marched,  when  from  sheer  weakness 
they  could  scarcely  keep  step  to  the  fife  and  drum; 
they  had  seen  the  hollow  pageantry;  had  heard  the 
discordant  fanfares  from  brazen  trumpets;the  mock 
ery  of  commands  to  "fall  in"  and  to  "fall  out;"  in 
deed  they  had  been  lashed  to  the  treadmill  of  fatigu 
ing  servitude'when  there  wasn't  a  bazaar  or  a  sutler's 
shop  into  which  they  could  enter  and  beg  a  morsel 
of  bread;and  when  they  "broke  ranks"  there  wasn't 
a  ration  of  meat  or  flour  distributed  to  the  old  hulks 
that  were  to  all  intents  and  purposes  out  of  com 
mission.  Joshua  felt  that  all  the  events  and  ca 
tastrophes  of  this  mortal  life  were  in  some  mysteri 
ous  way  the  annotations  of  Sacred  Writ,  and  hence 
as  he  clothed  himself  in  the  spic-span  homespun 
garments  that  Alice  had  given  him,  he  said  to  his 
wife, 

"Now  elf  I  kin  ever  find  my  old  bever,  und  my 
specks,  I'm  agwine  to  ax  Miss  Alice  what  de 
scriptur  says  erbout  dis  insurreckshun.  Cording  to 
my  membrance  when  de  Mallyskites  flung  ole  Far- 
ro  outen  de  charryot  into  de  sea,  dat  Fillisten  gin- 
ril  was  imitating  Ellick  in  his  devilishness;  haint 
dat  scriptur,  Hannah*" 

Hannah  looked  up  from  her  wash-board  with 
earnestness  and  with  just  a  suggestion  of  temper 
as  she  observed: 


238  THE    BROKEN    SWOKD. 

"Whicherway  in  de  scriptur  duz  yu  find  dat 
passage?  Cordin  to  my  membrance  dare  want  none 
of  dem  charryots  in  dem  deys  epsepting  Lijah's, 
und  hit  warn't  hitched  to  no  hosses. 

As  Joshua  was  going  toward  the  mansion  he  said 
to  himself,  "Dey  is  agwine  to  spishun  ole  marsa 
wid  killing  dem  niggers,  nnd  den  de  werry  ole 
harrykin  is  gwine  to  brake  loose  in  dis  plantashun. 
Grate  Jarryko  !  Ef  it  cums  lo  de  wursest  me  und 
Ned  und  Clarsy  und  Hanna  is  agwine  to  stan  twixt 
him  und  dem  twell  de  eend. 

It  appears  to  be  exclusively  the  prerogative  of 
women  to  be  the  burden  bearers  for  others;  as 
suredly  this  virtue  was  heroically  exercised  by 
the  beautiful  girl,  whose  heart  was  all  sympathy  for 
the  misguided  wretches.  Not  one  thought,  not  a 
care,  for  her  poor,  defenceless  self;  all  for  the  ne 
groes  who  were  drunken  upon  the  lees  of  recon 
struction,  the  poor  slaves  of  a  power  they  dared 
not  oppose. 

"Uncle  Joshua,''  she  asked  in  tears  "Have  you 
heard  the  sad  fate  of  Aleck  and  Ephraim  ?" 

"Yes,  marm,  I  dun  und  heerd  de  news  dis  morn- 
in  fo  sun  up,  und  I'm  missurble  fur  yer  und  ole 
marsa,  missis.  Dis  werry  sassinashun  cum  to  my 
membrunce  las  nite  twixt  lebben  'clock  und  day, 
und  when  hit  wuz  fust  norated  er  roun,  I  ses  ter 
Hanner,  sez  I,  Dar  now!  I  spishuned  dat  werry 
axydent  wuz  ergwine  ter  happ'n.  Und  Hanner  she 
ups  und  sez,  sez  she,  'How  cum  yer  node  mo  dan 
tuther  humans?  Is  yer  er  possel  ur  a  wangel?'  Und 
den  I  upped  und  tole  her,  und  hit  cum  erbout  in 
disser  fashun,  missis:  A  bitter  sadness  lay  upon 
my  piller  las  nite,  yung  missis,  und  way  in  de 
shank  o'  de  nite  I  seed  yo  precious  mammy,  und 
she  wur  er  weepin  lak  her  po  hart  wud  brake,  und 
I  sed  to  her,  sez  I,  Ole  missis,  haint  dat  yu?'  Und 
den  she  smoled,one  leetle  smole,  und  den  she  sed, 


THE    BROKEN    SWOKD.  239 

sez  she,  'Ole  nigger,  I'm  so  missurble,  for  my  dear 
husbun  und  my  preshus  child  are  in  danger;  won't 
yu  help  em  V  Und  den  she  pin  ted  her  lily  finger 
down  de  appenu  toards  de  crick,  and  den  I  heerd 
her  say,  sez  she,  'Rite  dare  is  whar  de  niggers  is 
ergwine  ter  kill  my  po  dears;'  und  den  she  ban 
ished  lak  a  sperret  outen  my  site.  Fo  Gawd,  yung 
missis,  dem  dar  wurds  sont  a  shower  ob  isickles 
all  ober  me." 

This  simple,  affecting  narrative  chilled  the  heart 
of  poor  Alice,  too,  and  her  grief  became  as  frigid 
as  if  smitten  by  polar  frosts. 

Oh,  what  would  Alice  give  for  the  reign  of 
peace,  of  law  in  this  Idumea  of  the  South!  "Why 
prepare  these  watery  sepulchres  for  the  freedmen 
whose  hopes  have  been  built  upon  their  delusive 
pledges?  Why  starve  and  drown  them  as  if  they 
were  vermin,  without  aspirations  and  without  souls? 
WTho  can  excel  these  authors  of  misrule  in  the 
fine  art  of  assassination?''  she  asked. 

Clarissa  stood  at  the  side  of  her  young  mistress, 
whilst  Joshua,  as  if  by  inspiration,  was  narrating 
the  vision  of  the  night.  She  was  transfixed  with 
terror,  and  shaking  from  head  to  foot  she  exclaim 
ed : 

"Bress  Gawd!  dis  isdeeendobhitall — fust  cums 
de  belliun,  den  de  hosses  und  de  charryot,  den 
def !" 

"Stop  rite  dar!  Stop  rite  dar,  Clarsy!  Xary  nud- 
der  wurd,"  exclaimed  Joshua  with  emphasis. 
"Don't  de  scriptur  say  how  dat  whot  is  ergwine 
ter  cum  is  ergwine  ter  cum?  Und  ef  hit  haint  er 
gwiae  ter  cum  hit  haint  ergwine  ter  cum;  why, 
in  cose;  ef  me  und  Ned  hez  ary  grane  ob  spishun 
erbout  Miss  Alice  und  ole  marser,  me  und  him  is 
ergwine  to  uprare  a  barrykade  rite  at  de  grate 
house,  und  dey  will  be  drib  back  lak  de  Mally- 
skites.  Yu  jess  hole  yer  gripe  upon  Proverdense 


240  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

und  grace,  Clarsy,  und  den  we  kin  fling  de  charry- 
ots  und  de  liosses  in  de  creek  agen,  und  ole  marser 
und  yung  missis  will  be  saved." 

"Grate  king!'1  replied  Clarissa,  still  greatly 
alarmed.  "Yu  mout  ez  well  uprare  dat  barrykade 
rite  now;  kase  when  dem  niggers  sees  dese  dround- 
ed  corpses  er  see-sawin  in  de  creek,  day  is  ergwine 
ter  cum  down  on  dis  hear  grate  house  same  ez  de 
yaller  flies  on  dem  pided  steers  out  yander  in  de 
mash." 

"Yu  is  too  brash,  sister,"  replied  Joshua.  "I 
haint  ergwine  ter  hab  dem  debbils  spishunin  dat 
dar's  a  trap  sot  fo  I  gits  hit  sot.  When  de  moon 
gits  back  yander  hind  de  trees  hit  will  be  sot,  und 
I  aims  fur  yu  ter  pull  de  trigger." 

"Oh,  my  king!"  blurted  out  Clarissa,  as  she 
wrung  her  hands,  "und  sposin  hit  don't  go  off  ur 
nuffin;  den  whot?  Dis  heer  po  nigger  wud  immy- 
tate  wun  ob  dem  sojers  dat  wuz  dug  outen  de  kra- 
ter  way  ole  Mars  Jon  got  his  def  wound.  Ef  dat 
ar  trap  is  sot  its  bleeged  ter  be  upsot  by  sumbody 
dat's  got  mo  ambishun  agen  his  kuller  dan  I  is, 
yu  heers  my  racket!"  exclaimed  Clarissa  in  great 
excitement. 

Joshua  was  the  first  to  interview  the  dead  ban 
dits.  I  can  see  him  squatted  upon  his  haunches 
with  palsied  finger  pointed  at  the  fishy  eyes  ex 
claiming; 

"Dar  now  square  Wiggins  jess  see  what  yu  is 
fetched  up  agen  at  las.  I  dun  und  tole  yu  so;  now 
haint  yu  dun  und  dun  it  er  trying  to  skeer  ole 
marser  outen  de  grate  house;  mout  heb  node  yu 
was  ergwine  to  git  obertook  by  sum  jedgment  ur 
udder.  I  don't  spishun  nuffin  else  dat  fo  dis  devil 
ish  konstruckshun  is  dun  wid,  dare  haint  ergwine 
to  be  er  live  nigger  in  de  Xunited  States;  und  de 
biggerty  niggers  like  yu  und  Efrum  is  ergwine  to 
mak  hit  wusser  fur  tuther  fokeses.  Yu  dun  und 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  241 

dun  de  wussest  fing  yu  ebber  dun  in  yo  born  days, 
when  yu  sot  down  in  dat  dare  kerrige  wid  all  dem 
flags  er  flying  at  de  nine  eend  lak  er  sho  nuff  sur- 
kuss;  und  deres  yo  po  innosen  wife  er  follerin  yu 
backards  und  furrards  lak  yu  was  ole  Farro  kom- 
mandin  de  yurth,  er  lying  down  dare  same  as  a 
drownded  warmint  in  de  crick,  und  her  po  leetle 
yunguns  crying  mammy !  .mammy !  und  all  dun 
und  dun  kase  yu  started  ahullyberloerbout  ole  mar 
ker's  plantashnn;  wurf  mo  den  all  de  dratted  nig 
gers  big  und  leetle  on  de  top  side  of  de  yurth;  und 
kase  yu  fotched  ole  Shurmun's  army  wid  dare  mus- 
kits  in  de  ded  ob  de  nite  to  tak  ole  marser  und 
yung  missis  ded  er  live.  I  nebber  seed  er  nigger 
lak  yu  play  biggerty  dat  de  good  Lord  didn't  slam 
to  de  yurth  wid  his  jedgments.  Pend  'pon  it  de 
Lord  is  gwine  to  git  de  under  holt  ebery  time." 
And  all  the  time  Aleck  lay  with  great  lacklustre 
eyes  staring  and  grinning  at  Joshua.  "Und  yu  is 
down  dare  too  Efrum  wid  dem  yaller  upperlips, 
pine  plank  lak  de  sun  flowers  in  de  jam  of  Han- 
na's  gyarden  er  bobbin  up  und  down  same  as  a 
kildee  in  de  mash;  und  boff  of  yu  er  smokin  in  de 
tarnel  hell  farr.  Und  all  cum  erbout  kase  dere's 
too  much  freedum  in  de  Ian.  I  nebber  seed  a 
drounded  nigger  fore  de  bellion  fell  in  all  my  born 
days,  and  now  yer  kaint  fro  yer  hook  in  de  crick 
far  a  catfish  yer  aint  skeered  yu  mout  git  tangled 
up  wid  a  drounded  nigger." 

Joshua  paused  to  wipe  the  perspiration  from  his 
face  with  his  ragged  coat  sleeve,  and  the  great 
black  crowd  moved  as  by  a  common  impulse  to  the 
brink  of  the  stream  and  gazed  with  a  contrariety  of 
emotions  upon  the  drowned  negroes.  The  goggle 
eyed  coroner  with  his  beaver  in  his  hand  stepped 
a'little  to  the  front  and  commanded  attention. 

"Breddin,"  he  said,  "dars  a  time  to  live  und  dnrs  a 
time  to  die,  und  ef  I  must  spaciate  upon  def  be- 
16 


242  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

fo  dis  conjugation  I  mout  say  dat  he  cums  in  a 
heap  aways  und  a  heap  er  fashnns;  den  agin  he 
cnms  when  he  hedn't  ought  ter  cum.  He  cum  dis 
time  when  he  hedn't  ought  ter  cum  und  he  hes 
tiung  de  hole  government  out  of  jint." 

"Und  I  specks  de  boss  will  be  bleeged  ter  mak 
a  signment  ob  de  assets  of  North  Caliny.  Fur 
de  lans  sake,"  exclaimed  Joshua,  "let  me  git  wun 
moufful  ef  she's  agwine  to  bust.'  Without  noting 
the  interruption,  however,  the  coroner  proceeded: 

"I'm  agwine  ter  ax  brudder  Skyles  de  slidin  el 
der  to  lead  us  all  in  prayer,  und  ter  bless  de  Lord 
dat  de  crowner  und  jurer  is  rite  heer  to  sympa 
thize  with  our  bereaved  friends  in  the  bonds  of  in 
iquity." 

Aleck  and  his  ill  fated  friends  were  still  seasaw- 
ing  in  the  water  and  after  the  prayer  the  man  with 
the  hand  organ  and  the  monkey  began  to  play  in 
squeaky,  stridulous  tones  "The  girl  I  left  behind 
me." 

Joshua  the  octogenarian,  was  among  the  men 
who  were  chosen  upon  the  jury. 

"Now  den  what  is  yer  gemmangwine  ter  side  er- 
bout  dese  drounded  corpses?"  asked  the  coroner. 
There  was  a  long  painful  pause  when  a  very  vener 
able  negro  confronted  the  coroner  with  this  en 
quiry; 

'  <I  rises  to  a  question  ob  pribilige  sar.  I  wishes 
to  quire,  ef  a  crowbar  mout  be  pr  witniss  in  his 
own  beharf,  sar?" 

"Sartanly  sar,  sartanly,"  answered  the  coroner: 

"How  is  yer  agwine  to  swar  hit  ?"  he  continued. 

"Now  yer  oversizes  my  siggassity  sar;  yer  axes 
pine  blank"  said  the  coroner,  raising  his  spectacles 
with  great  dignity,  "How  dis  jurer  is  agwine  to 
swar  a  crowbar;  is  dat  hit  ?'' 

"Yas  sar,"  replied  the  negro. 

"What  sez  yer  gemman  ob   de  jurer  to  dis  qus- 


THE   BROKEN    SWORD.  243 

tun,"  asked  the  coroner.     After  laying  their  heads 
together,  a  juror  pompously  observed. 

"Dat  he  hed  seed  a  horg  crost  questuned  in  de 
kote,  und  he  convicted  de  prisner." 

"Were  he  a  white  man  ?"  the  jury  asked. 

"No  sar,  dat  time  de  prisoner  'was  a  cullud  gem- 
man  sar." 

'Aye,  Aye,"  they  exclaimed  in  chorus. 

"Und  de  nex  time  I  seed  a  pare  of  galluses  con 
vict  a  prisner." 

"Was  he  a  cullud  gemman  ?"  again  they  asked. 

"No  sar,  he  were  a  po  white  man," 

"Jess  so,  Jess  so,"  they  again  exclaimed  with 
infinite  satisfaction. 

"Fetch  dat  crowbar  in  heer  und  tell  where  yer 
git  him,  '  said  the  coroner. 

"I  scovered  him  under  de  bridge,"  the  negro  an 
swered. 

"Whose  name  is  dat,  sar?  '  the  coroner  asked 
pointing  to  the  letters  J.  W.  S.  chiseled  into  the 
iron  handle. 

"Haint  dat  Semo's  name  ?  '  he  again  asked. 

"It  ar  '  answered  a  juror. 

"Constable,"  the  coroner  stormed  with  wrath, 
"Yer  fech  dat  white  man  fo  me,  ded  er  live,  und 
summuns  de  possy  common  ta  ters  to  go  wid  yer 
sar.  Und  bredden,"  he  continued,  "we'll  pass  de 
jimmyjon  und  tak  a  swipe  while  wee's  erwaiting 
fur  de  prisner.  ' 

Clarissa  looked  out  of  the  kitchen  window  and 
descried  the  negro  constable  and  his  posse  advan 
cing  rapidly  toward  the  mansion.  With  her  hands 
just  out  of  the  kneaded  Hour  she  ran  frantically  to 
her  young  mistriss  with  the  exclamation, 

"Lord  have  mercy,  Miss  Alice,  yander  cums  ole 
Shermans  army;  de  plantashun  is  black  und  bin 
wid  niggers  wid  der  muskits,"  "Oh,  my  Lord  have 
mussy  on  us." 


244  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

Alice  though  greatly  alarmed,  replied  as  calmly 
as  possible, 

"Dont  you  know  Clarissa,  we  have  never  harmed 
these  people.  Do  you  think  they  will  kill  us  in 
oold  blood.  Where  is  father  I  Come  father,  come 
Clarissa,  we  will  go  into  the  verandah  and  meet 
them,  kindly  face  to  face.  Come,  father,  I  know 
you  are  brave — and  you  are  a  Christian.  If  they 
have  come  to  murder  us — there  is  but  a  pang  and 
all  will  be  over.  In  a  moment  we  shall  forget  our 
griefs,  our  humiliations.  Let  us  clasp  hands  and 
die  altogether." 

"The  negro  constable  observing  the  distress  of 
the  family  and  wishing  for  the  time  being  to  avoid 
•excitement,  halted  his  gang  at  the  gate  and  ad 
vanced  to  the  old  man  With  his  warrant. 

"Mr.  Semo,"  said  he,  "Yer  is  sensed  of  fero 
ciously  homisiden  de  corpses  in  de  crick  und  I'm 
sent  to  fetch  yer  to  de  crowner." 

"All  right  I  will  accompany  you,"  the  old  man 
said  with  resignation. 

Poor  Alice  clung  to  her  father's  neck  crying  as  if 
her  heart  would  break,  and  spoke  pleadingly  to  the 
negro. 

"May  I  not  go  with  my  father  ?  May  I  not  die 
with  him  ?  Oh,  my  dear,  dear  father.  I  cannot 
bear  the  separation,  the  suspense.  Please,  please 
Mr.  Constable  let  my  father  remain  here  and  let  me 
suffer  and  die  for  him." 

"Oh  my  daughter,  my  child,"  petulantly  cried 
the  old  man,  "this  will  not  do."  "Dry  your  tears 
my  dear  child  and  be  assured  that  the  coroner  can 
not  do  me  harm.  If  he  shall  find  me  guilty,  I 
shall  remain  in  jail  only  to-morrow.  The  court 
convenes  on  Monday  next  when  I  shall  be  discharg 
ed  and  return  home.  Give  me  a  kiss  now,  and  re 
member  dear,  that  your  father  is  safe:  Good-bye, 
<rod  bless  you." 


THE   BROKEN    SWORD.  245 

As  Joshua,  a  juror,  saw  the  feeble  old  man  with 
great  effort  advancing  with  the  negro  posse,  he  be 
gan  to  shed  tears  and  covered  his  furrowed  face 
with  his  old  beaver  : 

"Po  Mars  Jon,"  he  sobbed  audibly,  "Has  it 
cum  to  dis,  sensing  the  bestest  man  in  de 
kentry  wid  foroshus  homosiden.  Marser,  yu  shall 
hab  jestice.  I'll  stan  twix  yer  und  def.  Yu 
know'd  nuffin  about  dis  massacre,  jess  ez  innerson 
ob  dis  sensation  ez  a  baby — ebery  bit  und  grane." 

"Constable,"  asked  the'  coroner,  "fetch  me  dat 
crowbar  und  de  prisner."  "Now  den,  dis  heer 
crowbar  is  a  witnis  agin  yer,  Mr.  Semo,  what  has 
yer  got  to  say  agin  dis  sensation  sar?" 

The  Colonel  replied  with  dignity,  "I  have  not 
seen  it  before  in  twelve  months,  I  am  sure." 

"How  cum  dis  heer  crowbar  under  de  bridge,, 
how  cum  de  bridge  fell  down  und  how  cum  dem 
fokses  drounded,  answer  me  dat?"  sharply  answer 
ed  the  coroner. 

"I  cannot  tell  sir,  I  know  nothing  whatever 
about  the  matter,"  and 

"•Boss  Crowner,"  interrupted  Joshua,  "does  yer 
sposing  dat  ar  crowbar  was  de  cashun  ob  dat  dar 
drounen  ?  Answer  me  dat  fust.  I  aint  agwine  ter 
sot  on  no  man  dat  aint  gilty.  Diss  heer  bisniss  is- 
ticklish  bisniss,  I  tell  yer  dat  rite  now,  und  we  is 
all  sworn  ter  find  out  whedder  dat  crowbar  kilt 
dose  fokses  ur  whedder  dey  kilt  deyselves.  Now 
yer  look  er  heer,  when  dis  heer  gang  cum  down 
dat  rode  a  rasin  und  a  hollering  lak  wild  panters, 
dey  want  a  noticing  nuffin  und  dat  ole  bridge  hez 
been  shackly  und  cranksided  for  a  mont,  und  der 
horses  cummin  a  prancing  und  er  gallupin  wid  all 
dem  flags  a  flying  mout  er  knowed  sumfin  was 
agwine  to  gib  way,  und  ef  I  wotes  ter  hang  eny 
body  it  is  agwine  to  be  de  oberseer  ob  de  rode, 
taint  agwine  to  be  ole  marser.  Ef  I  wotes,  I  says 


246  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

ef  I  wotes,  I  am  agwine  ter  clar  ole  marser  ob  dis 
heer  terble  scusashun  und  I  am  reddy  ter  wote 
rite  now.  I  got  a  plenty  ob  munny  und  a  plenty  ob 
good  wittles,  too,  und  I  haint  agwine  to  grunt  und 
root  roun  de  kommissery  lak  a  liorg  nudder,  wid 
de  ole  flag  a  twisted  ober  de  back  lak  de  tail  ob  a 
chiken  rooster.  Marser  Jon  shall  hab  jestis  ef  I 
hab  to  go  outen  dese  Nunited  States  fur  it.  Mout 
as  well  be  sarchin  fur  fleas  on  a  catfish  ez  fer  jestis 
in  dis  kote.  I  move  dis  honerble  kote  to  turn  ole 
marser  Jon  loose,  und  I  call  for  de  wote  rite  now." 

This  speech  of  the  old  negro  seemed,  as  it  were, 
the  gift  of  an  oracle.  It  grappled  with  a  great 
subject  of  principle.  Joshua  was  indeed  an  im 
mune,  having  nothing  to  fear  from  the  negroes, 
on  account  of  his  extreme  old  age  and  enjoying 
the  trust  of  the  Colonel  and  his  daughter. 

He  looked  up  at  the  flag  as  he  concluded,  as  it 
seemed  to  him  just  now  to  be  overcast  with  the 
murky  vapors  of  oppression,  and  pointing  his 
bony  finger  toward  its  scarlet- veined  folds,  ex 
claimed  with  the  pathos,  the  spirit  of  an  orator  of 
nature, 

"De  grate  Lawd  forbid  dat  yore  stripes,  'Ole 
Glory,'  shall  be  washed  in  de  blood  ob  my  ole  mar 
ser.  I  welcomed  yu  in  de  Souf  when  I  seed  yu 
chassayin  in  de  wild  storm;  I  bowed  my  ole  hed  to 
yu  when  yu  flung  yo  storry  crown  toards  de  heb- 
ens;  I've  marched  backards  und  farrards,  tired 
unto  def,  when  yu  led  de  rigiment,  und  felt  dere 
wuz  power  und  pride  und  peace  under  yo  stripes 
und  under  yo  storrs;  und  when  hongry  und  starv 
ing  fur  bread,  I  flung  my  ole  bever  in  de  air  und 
cheered  fur  de  flag  ob  de  Nunion.  I  lubs  my  ole  mar 
ser  ez  I  lubs  yu,  'Ole  Glory  '  und  he  mus  not  die — 
he  shall  not  die;  ef  de  blood  of  Ellick  und  Efrum 
wuz  upon  his  hans  und  upon  his  soul  ez  thick  ez 
de  mud  upon  dare  gyarments.'' 


THE   BROKEN    SWORD.  247 

Suffice  it  to  say  that  in  the  opinion  of  the  jury 
John  W.  Seymour  had  committed  the  murder  al 
leged  in  the  warrant  and  was  committed  to  the 
common  jail  for  the  unbailable  capital  crime. 


CHAPTER    XX. 


UA   DANIEL    COME   TO    JUDGMENT." 

The  Reconstruction  period  in  the  South  was  of 
fensively  institutional.  There  was  a  fascination 
about  the  spoils  principle,  the  "cohesive  power  of 
public  plunder"  that  allured  all  conditions  of  men 
who  put  themselves  in  juxtaposition  to  the  new  or 
der  of  things.  There  was  not  a  negro  who  valued 
his  manhood  suffrage  that  did  not  yield  implicit 
faith  and  obedience  to  all  that  was  told  him  by  the 
carpet-baggers,  who  came  south  as  the  "waves  come 
when  navies  are  stranded."  The  elective  judiciary 
too  was  no  mean  accessory  in  the  wholesale  plun 
der  of  the  people ;  in  the  sale,  delay  and  denial 
of  justice.  The  presence  of  the  judge  in  the  county 
town  to  hold  the  court  was,  an  event  that  was  com 
monly  distinguished  by  farcial  displays;  exhibi 
tions  as  it  were  of  harlequins,  bazaars,  organ- 
grinders  and  negroes.  From  the  four  quarters  of 
the  county  exhausted  mules  and  oxen  were  brought 
into  requisition  and  hitched  to  primitive  vehicles; 
negroes  who  were  the  worthless  heads  of  pauper 
families,  astride  the  bare  backs  of  horned  cattle, 
arriving  in  the  town  before  the  break  of  day  and 
thronging  the  public  buildings,  thoroughfares  and 


248  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

court  house.  The  leaders  among  the  negroes  would 
call  upon  the  judge  in  his  chamber  with  a  disgust 
ing  obsequiousness  that  marked  the  depravity  of 
their  origin.  Punishments  at  times  were  the  re 
finement  of  oppression  and  as  often  a  mockery  of 
the  law.  Partisan  judgments  were  not  unusual  or 
surprising. 

An  untried  judge  had  come  to  hold  the  assizes  ; 
he  had  come  without  the  blast  of  a  trumpet, 
but  the  compact  assemblage  awaited  with  every 
demonstration  of  joy  his  presence  upon  the  bench. 
The  judge  was  a  young  man,  seemingly  of  great 
intellectual  reserve,  possessing  a  steel  gray  eye  that 
shot  its  glances  through  the  subject  as  if  it  were 
but  marking  a  point  through  which  his  judgment 
of  a  man  would  enter.  There  were  courage,  self 
poise,  wisdom,  integrity  apparent  in  the  man  who 
had  arrived  to  administer  the  law.  For  the  first 
time  this  judicial  officer  saw  before  him  an  indis 
tinguishable  mass  of  the  freedmen  of  the  south. 
He  knew  by  intuition  that  they  were  ignorant,  vic 
ious  and  corruptible;  he  saw  that  the  prosecuting 
attorney  was  a  negro,  the  deputies  of  the  sheriff 
were  negroes,  the  foreman  of  the  grand  jury  was  a 
negro  and  doubtless  he  addressed  to  himself  this 
interrogatory  in  the  law  latin  cui  bono\ 

"There  were  indictments  almost  without  number 
for  frauds,  embezzlements  and  forgeries;  the  trav 
ail  of  reconstruction." 

Laliin  had  been  perniciously  active  all  the  morn 
ing.  Before  the  judge  had  taken  his  seat  upon 
the  bench,  he  had  interviewed  many  of  the  men 
who  had  been  summoned  upon  the  venire  to  try  a 
veteran  of  the  lost  cause  for  murder  and  their  pock 
ets  were  filled  with  small  bribes.  He  had  check 
ed  oif  twelve  names  and  given  the  list  to  the  solici 
tor  with  the  heartless  remark  "Now  we'll  hang  the 
old  secesh  higher  than  Haman,  and  you  and  I  Mr. 


THR    BROKEN    SWORD.  249 

Solicitor  will  divide  between  us  his  homestead." 
At  this  point  of  time  an  interruption  came  from 
one  of  the  negro  jurors  to  this  effect,  "Boss  dere's 
wun  secesh  nigger  dat  sez  he's  agwine  to  hang  de 
jurer  epseps  yu  gin  him  wun  mo  dollar." 

"Blast  the  wretch !"  came  the  curse  of  this  man 
of  baleful  power,  "Where  is  he?"  he  enquired. 

"See  dat  man  standin  dere  ergin  dat  postess, 
dats  him." 

"Here  you  fellow,"  said  Laiiin,  "How  much 
money  have  you  been  paid  to  find  the  old  secesh 
guilty?" 

The  negro  in  an  abstracted  way  felt  in  his  pock 
ets  and  told  the  wretch  that  one  juror  had  been 
paid  two  dollars,  while  he  had  received  only  one 
dollar,  "und  he  mout  conwic  de  rong  man,  den  yu 
see  boss,  de  pay  mout  not  be  ekal  to  de  sponual- 
ity.  Fling  in  wun  mo  dollar  und  de  jurer  gwine 
to  hang  dat  secesh  sho." 

This  conclave  of  diabolical  spirits  was  held  in 
the  office  of  the  sheriff  at  the  hour  of  9  a.  m.  Back 
yonder  in  the  common  jail,  behind  the  fretted  bars, 
was  the  veteran  in  the  cell  with  black  felons. 

Why  should  the  catalogue  of  this  poor  man's 
misfortune  be  enlarged,  by  super-adding  to  the 
loss  of  domestic  tranquility,  that  greatest  of  all 
calamities,  the  loss  of  his  liberty,  aggravated  by 
the  imputation  of  crime  and  its  consequent  ignomi 
ny.  He  feels  that  the  storm  without  is  fraught  with 
lightning,  that  renders  desolate  the  face  of  nature, 
his  mind  has  lost  its  elasticity,  its  spring,  its 
pride;  and  who  is  the  prisoner,  whom  the  black 
crowd  follow  with  the  gaping  vacuity  of  vulgar  ig 
norance,  assaulting  him  now  and  again  with  obscene 
gibes,  as  he  is  led  from  the  cell  to  the  dock?  He 
is  gifted  by  the  God  of  nature  with  rare  endow- 
ments,  whose  unconquered  spirit  breaks  forth  in  a 
sentiment  such  as  this, 


250  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

»  ^ 

"Lee  the  hangman  lead  these  miscreants  10  ihe  gibbet, 
And  let  the  ravens  of  the  air 

Fatten  upon  their  flesh  until  they  pick  each  tainted 
carcase  from  the  bones." 

There  were  indictments  also  for  capital  felonies, 
and  in  the  dock  sat  three  hardened  black  criminals, 
and  one  aged  white  man  of  distinguished  presence, 
who  was  whispering  now  and  then  to  a  beautiful 
maiden  in  tears,  a  maiden  so  radiant  in  personal 
attractions  that  she  might  have  sat  approvingly  for 
the  portrait  of  Beatrice  Cenci  that  looks  down  up 
on  the  upturned  faces  in  the  Art  Gallery  in  Flor 
ence.  He  was  a  veteran  of  the  civil  war;  a  hero  at 
Malvern  Hill;  colonel  commanding  the  regiment  of 
cavalry  that  by  an  extra  hazardous  maneuver 
drove  a  Federal  brigade  into  the  death  trap.  By 
his  side  sat  as  his  attorney  a  white-haired  gentle 
man,  who  like  a  stately  man  of  war,  just  going  out 
of  commission,  was  sighting  his  guns  upon  the 
enemy  for  the  last  time.  This  spectacle  was  so 
full  of  the  pathos  of  human  life  that  it  deserves 
to  be  perpetuated  in  the  memory,  after  the  dry  rot 
shall  have  utterly  honey-combed  the  odious  sys 
tem  of  reconstruction.  The  arraignment  of  the 
prisoner  was  proceeded  with;  the  negro  solicitor 
presuming  upon  the  hearty  co-operation  of  the 
judge  ventilated  his  spleen  upon  the  unfortunate 
prisoner. 

"Stand  up,  prisoner  at  the  bar,"  he  commanded 
as  he  fairly  spat  his  venom  like  a  jungle  serpent  in 
to  the  face  of  the  poor  man.  "Are  you  guilty  or  not 
guilty  of  the  felony  and  murder  with  which  you 
stand  charged?"  he  cried. 

"Not  Guilty,"  answered  the  prisoner  with  a  quiet 
dignity. 

"By  whom  will  you  be  tried,"  the  officer  inquired 
wrathfully. 

"By  God   and  my  country,"  was  the  answer  of 


THE   BROKEN    SWORD.  251 

this  veteran  of  a  hundred  battles;  this  wise  coun 
sellor  of  the  law. 

Were  the  twelve  black  jurors  in  the  box  his 
country?  had  they  ever  given  direction  to  his  im 
pulses  as  a  patriot?  had  they  ever  nerved  his  arm 
to  strike  down  the  foe,  that  scourged  his  home  in 
to  barrenness  and  peopled  the  city  of  the  dead 
with  his  kindred?  Had  they  like  Joshua  and  Hur 
ever  stayed  the  hand  of  the  prisoner,  when  with 
drawn  sword  he  guarded  the  portal  of  the  temple  ? 
Great  God!  Shall  these  human  chattels,  without  a 
single  intellectual  resource,  without  one  ray  of 
discernment,  besotted  and  bedraggled  by  fanati 
cism,  superstition  and  ignorance  bring  to  this  poor 
man  in  this  extremity  a  safe  deliverance?  In  con 
ducting  the  prosecution,  in  the  examination  of  the 
witnesses  the  same  brutish  treatment  was  observed 
by  the  solicitor  for  the  state  toward  the  aged  pris 
oner,  and  with  an  offensive  parade  of  authority  he 
announced  that  the  state  had  closed  its  case;  there 
upon  the  white-haired  Governor  arose  to  ask  for 
the  discharge  of  the  prisoner  for  want  of  sufficient 
evidence  to  convict.  Now  came  the  first  interrup 
tion  upon  the  part  of  the  judge,  who  up  to  this 
moment  had  observed  a  reticence  quite  noteworthy 
in  a  high  judicial  officer  who  was  holding  his  first 
court  where  the  negroes  ruled. 

"It  is  unnecessary  Governor  that  I  should  hear 
you,"  he  remarked  with  evident  self-poise. 

Turning  to  the  solicitor  he  asked  with  delibera 
tion, 

"Can  you  tell  me  how  the  indictment  against 
this  old  man  found  its  way  into  this  court?" 

"I  can,  sir,"  the  solicitor  impudently  replied, 
"and  I  propose,"  he  exclaimed  vehemently,  "to 
make  good  the  charge  by  convicting  this  assassin 
before  this  conscientious  jury." 


252  THE   BROKEN    SWORD. 

"Ah,  indeed!"  rejoined  the  judge  quite  compla 
cently.  "Are  you  quite  sure  of  your  premises?" 

"Yes  indeed!"  replied  the  solicitor. 

"Take  your  seat,  sir,"  the  judge  commanded, 
with  a  frown  upon  his  intelligent  face.  "I  am  in 
formed,"  said  he,  addressing  the  negro  solicitor, 
"that  you  have  been  perniciously  active  in  the  per 
secution  of  this  feeble  old  man;  that  you  have 
gone  out  of  your  way  to  harass  and  humiliate 
him  in  all  possible  situations;  that  you  have  ad 
vised  and  encouraged  and  rewarded  placable  agents 
and  emissaries  to  render  his  life  burdensome  and 
his  condition  intolerable;  that  you  have  caused  in 
quisitorial  visits  to  be  made  to  his  home  by  ruf- 
lianly  negroes  in  the  dead  hours  of  the  night;  that 
you  have  conspired  and  confederated  with  a  loath 
some  being — a  man,  however,  of  controlling  influ 
ence  with  the  negroes — by  the  name  of  Laflin,  to 
inflict  upon  him  and  his  daughter  every  indignity 
your  evil  imagination  could  suggest;  that  acting 
under  your  devilish  advice  and  inventions,  law 
less,  brutish  negroes  have  set  at  defiance  every  dic 
tate  of  humanity,  every  precept  of  religion,  and 
every  commandment  of  the  law,  and  have  turned 
his  home  into  a  hell;  that  when  a  superficial  exam 
ination  into  this  case  would  have  shown  you  that 
this  negro,  whom  you  say  was  murdered  by  this 
unfortunate  prisoner  gathered  around  him  a  bestial 
mob  of  the  most  despicable,  offensive  negroes, 
armed  with  guns  and  swords  to  take  his  life  by 
force  of  insurrectionary  combinations,  you  dare  to 
clutch  the  ermine  of  this  court  with  your  defiled 
fingers  !  You  have  disgraced  the  position  you  occu 
py;  your  right  to  prosecute  the  criminal  docket  in 
this  court  is  suspended.  You  will  take*  your  seat 
in  the  prisoner's  dock  until  I  can  have  you  tried 
and  sentenced  to  the  penitentiary.  This  man  is  in 
your  custody,  Mr.  Sheriff.  Mr.  Clerk,  you  will  at 


THE   BROKEN    SWORD.  253 

once  issue  a  bench  warrant  for  the  arrest  of  Abram 
Laflin  and  the  coroner,  Jackson  Thorp,  and  have 
them  brought  before  me  at  once.  Colonel  Sey 
mour,"  he  continued,  addressing  the  prisoner, 
and  at  the  same  time  extending  his  hand,  "you 
have  my  sympathy.  I  have  observed  with  pain  and 
indignation  the  alarming  condition  of  affairs  in 
your  county.  I  am  sitting  upon  this  bench  as  a 
judge  to  discharge  my  duty  in  the  fear  of  God. 
You  are  fully  vindicated,  sir,  and  may  retire  when 
you  please.' 

A  stampede  of  negroes  who  had  thronged  the 
court  room  swept  away  every  obstruction,  and 
within  one  hour  after  the  arrest  of  the  carpet-bag 
ger  and  the  coroner,mules,  oxen,  negroes,  dogs  and 
organs  and  monkeys  were  in  precipitate  flight 
through  the  town. 

"Grate  Jerusalem!"  exclaimed  an  old  negro  who 
had  fallen  down  the  stair- way  in  his  flight,  "de 
debbil  has  sho  broke  loose  in  dis  hear  town.  Dat 
ar  jedge  is  wusser  dan  a  harrykane." 

The  scene  that  followed  was  intensely  dramatic. 
Men  who  had  never  been  demonstrative  before,  at 
the  hour  of  recess,  thronged  the  judge  to  thank 
him  for  his  honesty  and  courage  in  this  hour  of 
trial.  The  Governor,  Colonel  Seymour  and  his 
beautiful  daughter  awaited  the  presence  of  the 
judge  in  the  parlor  of  the  public  inn,  and  as  the 
learned  man  entered  the  room  greatly  embarrassed. 
Alice  thought  he  was  the  manliest  man  she  ever 
saw — faultlessly  handsome,  with  the  poise  of  a 
patrician.  The  judge  took  her  extended  hand,  and 
blushing  deeply,  looked  down  into  the  lustrous 
blue  eyes  that  were  laughing  through  tears  and 
said,  almost  audibly,  to  himself,  "Is  it  possible 
that  this  beauty  will  ever  fade?"  Could  we  intro 
spect  the  great  man's  heart,  we  should  flnd  even 
then  a  little  weaver  picking  up  here  and  there 


254  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

golden  threads  and  ens-crossing  them  into  entang 
ling  meshes;  and  perhaps  a  little  archer  was  draw 
ing  back  his  bow  to  transfix  two  hearts  and  hold 
them  up  before  him  while  he  laughed  and  laughed 
again  at  his  conquest. 

"Miss  Seymour,"  the  judge  exclaimed,  quite 
compassionaetly,  "I  regret  that  your  father  has 
been  so  greatly  outraged.  I  hope  he  will  soon  for 
get  it  and  that  his  life  will  be  happy.  I  am  grate 
ful  to  you  for  the  pleasure  of  this  visit.  May  I 
hope  to  see  you  at  your  home  in  the  country?" 

Alice  replied,  both  weeping  and  smiling,  that 
she  could  never  repay  the  debt  of  gratitude. 

"I  feel  that  there  is  not  now  a  cloud  upon  my 
little  horizon — that  your  considerate  judgment  has 
dispelled  the  shadows  that  veiled  in  my  life,  and  I 
shall  live  now  for  my  father  and  his  happiness." 

"Ah,  my  dear  miss!"  replied  the  judge,  some 
what  contused,  "do  not  thank  me  for  doing  my 
duty.  You  don't  know  how  my  heart  yearned  to 
wards  your  helpless  father  in  the  hands  of  these 
barbarians."  And  all  the  while  the  little  archer, 
now  an  imprisoned  eaves-dropper,  was  peeping  out 
of  the  curtains  with  his  chubby  hand  to  his  tiny 
ear  and  whispering,  "Love  at  first  sight." 

Joshua  was  a  unit  in  this  compact  mass  of  freed- 
men  that  squatted  here  and  there  upon  rude  benches 
and  crowded  the  aisles  in  that  great  auditorium  of 
jiegroes.  There  were  snow-white  dishevelled  locks 
under  primitive  hats  and  bonnets;  there  were  hollow 
cheeks  and  lack  lustre  eyes;  there  were  hungry 
stomachs,  limbs  palsied  and  stiffened  here  in  the 
very  May  day  of  reconstruction.  The  commis 
sariat  with  its  great  reservoirs  of  fatness  was  ever 
so  far  away,  and  its  approaches  were  guarded  by 
amed  freedmen  who  like  bearded  pards  demanded 
money.  "Old  Glory"  too,  hung  inert  from  the  flag 
staff ,  blushing  perhaps  because  the  judge  is  sitting 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  255 

upon  the  bench  to  despatch  business;  because  a 
Daniel  has  come  to  judge  Laiiin  and  to  give  him 
his  pound  of  flesh  without  blood.  As  the  colonel 
was  assisting  his  daughter  into  the  buggy,  after  the 
tumult  was  over,  Joshua  ambled*  up  to  him  with 
his  battered  beaver  in  his  hand  with  fulsome  con 
gratulations. 

"I  knowed  all  de  time  ole  marser  dat  yu  was 
agwine  to  get  clar.  I  seed  it  in  dat  jedge's  eyes 
when  he  heered  dat  ditement  red.  He  got  wexed 
dat  ar  minit,  und  shuck  his  lied  und  I  knowed  den 
dat  de  state  had  thing  de  fat  in  de  farr,  und  I  said 
to  mysef,  Joshaway,  yu  und  ole  marser  is  agwine 
home  wid  wun  anuder  dis  werry  nite  und  it  cum 
out  lak  1  spishuned." 

"Uncle  Joshua,"  interrupted  Alice  feelingly, 
"father  and  I  are  very  grateful  for  your  kindness 
and  you  shall  never  suffer  as  long  as  we  live.  Here 
is  a  dollar;  buy  Aunt  Hannah  what  she  needs, 
remember,  you  must  not  buy  whiskey  with  it." 

"Tank  yu  yung  missis,  tank  yu  a  fousand  times. 
I  am  gwine  to  lay  dis  out  for  Hannah.  I  aint 
agwine  to  tech  narry  cent  of  it,  und  when  dat 
nigger  sees  me  coming  home  with  all  my  bun 
dles  she  is  agwine  to  jump  clean  clar  outen  her 
skin.  I  don't  care  ef  I  nebber  sees  dat  kommis- 
sary  no  mo,''  and  in  the  transport  of  joy  the  old 
negro  tossed  his  old  beaver  high  into  the  air  while 
he  lustily  cri^d  out,  "free  cheers  for  Miss  Alice 
und  ole  marser." 

There  were  many  things  that  pre-occupied  the 
minds  of  Alice  and  her  father  as  they  were  driving 
home.  The  old  man  in  a  sentimental  spirit  felt 
like  exclaiming  with  the  sacred  writer  "These,and 
such  as  these  are  spots  in  our  feasts  of  charity;" 
clouds  they  are  without  water,  trees  whose  fruit 
withereth;  raging  waves  of  the  sea  foaming  out 


256  THE    BROKEN    SWOED. 

their  own  shame;  wandering  stars  to  whom  is  re 
served  the  blackness  of  darkness  forever-" 

As  they  neared  the  old  homestead,  Clarissa  was 
standing  in  the  gateway,  jumping  up  and  down 
automatically  with  arms  tossing  like  the  fans  of  a 
Dutch  windmill, shouting  frantically,  "glory, glory, 
the  dead  has  cum  to  life  agin,  blessed  Lord  de  in- 
surreckshun  has  done  und  riz  agen.  Jurusulum 
my  happy  home"  and  she  threw  her  arms  around 
her  young  mistress  and  in  the  excess  of  feeling 
hugged  even  the  old  hound.  Come  in  to  de  kitchen 
ole  marser  und  Miss  Alice  fur  de  lans  sake  und  see 
what  a  snipshus  dinner  I  has  got,  barbecue,  taters 
and  chicken  and  homily  und  sich  lak." 

Joshua  stood  in  the  road  to  watch  his  ole  marser 
fast  disappearing  in  the  distance;  then  taking  the 
crisp  note  from  the  lining  of  his  old  hat,  brandish 
ed  it  aloft  as  if  it  were  'old  glory.'  It  was  the  first 
currency  of  the  kind  he  had  ever  seen,  for  the 
coroner  had  refused  to  pay  his  per  diem  as  a  juror 
at  the  inquest,  averring  as  an  excuse  therefor  dat 
dat  wote  was  agin  de  consecushon  und  hit  jam  nigh 
spiled  de  hole  werdict.  Joshua  steadied  himself 
against  an  empty  whisky  barrel  and  began  to  cal 
culate  as  to  the  purchasing  capacity  of  the  dollar 
note. 

"Now  lem  me  count  on  de  tip  eend  of  the  fingers 
sensing  defumb  dat  don't  count, "said  he.  "Hanner 
she  wants  a  kote  und  a  par  of  brogans,  allus  awant- 
ing  mo  dan  de  munny  is  ag wine  to  fetch,"  he  ob 
served  parenthetically,  "und  den  dare  is  me,bleeged 
to  have  a  weskote  und  gallusses,  "und  dat  will  take 
every  bit  und  grane;  und  how  is  I  agwine  to  git 
eny  bakker,  und  I'm  bleeged  to  have  a  drap  of  sper- 
rits.  Now  lem  me  count  over  gin  und  git  dis  ole 
fumb  outen  de  way;  de  kote  is  fifty  cents  und  de 
shoes  is  seventy  five  cents,  dat  won't  do,  he  said  as 
he  scratched  his  head,  I'm  gwine  to  leabe  off  de 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  257 

kote;  den  dere  is  de  shoes  seventy-live  cents,  und 
de  weskote  seventy-five  cents;  dat  won't  do  nndder. 
I'm  agwine  to  leabe  off  de  shoes;  den  dare  is  de 
gallusses  twenty-five  cents, und  de  weskote  seventy- 
five  cents;  den  whar  is  de  bakker?  I'm  agwine  to  lebe 
off  de  weskote;  den  dare  is  de  gallusses  twenty-five 
cents, und  de  bakker  twenty-five  cents,  und  de  sper- 
rits  fifty  cents;  de  munny  haint  ergwine  to  hole  out 
no  udder  way  I  can  fix  it;  now  den  de  sperrits 
fust,  und  de  bakker  nex  und  gallusses  las,"  and 
when  the  old  negro  had  solved  the  problem  he 
struck  a  bee  line  to  the  nearest  groggery,  saying 
to  himself,  "Ef  Miss  Alice  had  axed  me  not  to  buy 
no  sperrits  I'd  a  been  kotchcd  pine  plank." 

"Two  years  in  the  penitentiary,"  Joshua  heard 
some  one  exclaim  as  he  was  passing  the  court 
house. 

"Who  dat  boss  gwine  to  de  penitenshur'"  he 
stopped  to  enquire. 

"Abram  Lafiin,''  came  the  answer. 

"Don't  you  heerdat!"  exclaimed  Joshua,  "Fre- 
dum  is  sho  gin  out  now.  Ellic  dun  und  gon  und 
got  hissef  drounded,  und  on  de  tip  eend  of  dat  de 
boss  is  dun  und  got  hissef  in  de  penitenshur.  Land 
sakes  alive!  Niggers  got  to  walk  perpendickkler 
now,"  and  with  that  the  old  negro  dodged  into  the 
tippling  shop. 

"Say  boss?"  Joshua  said  to  the  rum-seller,  "Fill 
me  a  tickler  rite  full  er  rum;  don't  put  Barry 
drap  of  whiskey  in  hit,  kase  ef  yu  dus  my  creddick 
is  dun  und  gon  fur  ebber.  Now  what  dus  I  have 
to  pay?"  he  asked  as  he  put  the  bottle  into  his 
haversack. 

"Seventy-five  cents,"  sharply  answered  the  sales 
man. 

"My  King!"  ejaculated  Joshua,  "Den  what  is  I 
gwine  to  do  about  dem  gallusses  ?" 
17 


258  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

"Come  old  negro,"  the  clerk  crustily  replied, 
"get  out  and  let  that  man  come  to  the  counter." 

As  Joshua  was  moving  suspiciously  out  of  the 
dram  shop  he  glanced  savagely  at  the  man  and  said 
to  himself,  "Dis  heer  low  down  white  trash  is  a 
gwine  to  be  de  ruinashun  ob  dis  kentry  yit,  agoug- 
ging  de  werry  eyeballs  out  ob  yer  hed,  und  yu  are 
standin  rite  dare  urseein  dem  do  hit.  I  wishes 
dat  dar  jedge  wud  git  holt  ob  dese  speretual  shops 
und  squashes  dem  lak  he  dun  dat  ditement  agin  ole 
marser." 

In  the  small  hours  of  the  night  Joshua  stumbled 
againsf  the  door  of  his  cabin  crying  like  a  lunatic. 

"Fer  de  Ian  sake  Banner,  run  out  here  und  kill 
dese  heer  snakes,  und  fetch  my  muskit  along  wid 

yu." 

And  Hannah  in  her  night  robes  ran  out  franti 
cally  crying,  "Show  me  dem  dar  sarpents,  whar  is 
dey  Joshaway?" 

"]>ar  dey  go,"  said  he,  and  seizing  the  musket 
he  banged  away  at  the  earth  exclaiming,  "Ef  yu  is 
sho  nuff  snakes  yu  is  in  a  bad  fix  und  ef  yu  aint 
sho  nuff  snaK.es  den  I's  in  a  wusser  wun." 

"Yu  stracted  fool,"  angrily  shouted  Hannah, 
"Yu  is  got  de  lerium  treraenjous,  dat's  what  ails 
yu." 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  259 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


AN    UNSEEN    HAND    UPON    THE    LEVER. 

The  old  master  at  Ingleside  had  been  so  greatly 
exasperated  by  intrusive  visitors  that  Clarissa,  who 
was  now  acting  in  the  dual  character  of  man  and 
maid,  had  received  express  orders  to  admit  no  one 
into  the  mansion  who  could  not  give  a  good  ac 
count  of  himself  or  herself;  so  when  Judge  Living 
stone  rang  the  door-bell,  Clarissa  who  was  sweep 
ing  the  dust  from  the  hall  dropped  the  broom  with 
the  tart  observation, 

"I  specks  dat  is  ernudder  dratted  scalyhorg  cum 
to  tantylize  ole  mars  Jon,"  and  she  crept  dubious 
ly  to  the  door  to  peep,  and  perceiving  that  there 
was  a  white  man  in  the  verandah  without  a  gun  or 
other  weapon  of  offensive  war,  she  halloed  loudly 
through  the  keyhole. 

"Whos  yu  ?"   To  which  no  answer  was  returned. 

"Don't  yu  heer  me  axes  yu  whos  yu  ?"  If  yu 
don't  answer  white  man  I'm  agwine  to  sick  ole 
Jube  on  yu,  und  run  yu  outen  dis  plantashun. 
"Whos  yu  I  sez?  '  repeated  the  old  negro. 

"My  name  is  Mr.  Livingtone,  a  friend  of  your 
young  mistress,  to  whom  I  would  be  pleased  to 
speak,"  came  the  reply. 

"I  kaint  heer  nary  wurd  yu  sez,  fur  ole  Jube.'* 
"Git  outen  de  way  dorg  wid  your  whinin.  You 
jes  wait  outen  dar  twell  I  axes  Miss  Alice  mout  yu 
cum  in.  What  you  sez  your  name  is?"  again 
cried  the  old  negro. 

"I  am  Judge  Liv— 

"Oh,    my   Lord,"    interrupted  Clarissa  with   a 


260  THE   BROKEN    SWORD. 

scream,  and  she  ran  back  like  a  maniac  wringing 
her  hands  and  shouting, 

"Oh,  my  po  yung  missis,  de  man  has  dun  und 
cum  to  preach  de  funral;  de  gallus  is  dun  und  up- 
rared  in  dis  grate  house,  und  de  jedge  hez  dun  und 
cum  to  pull  de  trigger,  und  de  werry  fust  one 
he  axes  fur  is  yu.  Good-bye,  Miss  Alice,"  she 
exclaimed,  as  she  frantically  clutched  her  dress 
and  dropped  upon  her  knees.  "Und  ef  I  nebber 
sees  yu  no  mo  in  dis  wurell  tak  care  of  yerself  und 
meet  me  in  de  starry  hellyments  whar  dar  aint 
gwine  ter  be  no  mo  tribbylashun  of  sperets." 

It  was  a  full  minute  before  Alice  could  calm  her 
agitation,  as  tears  from  an  excess  of  conflicting 
sensations  ran  down  her  cheeks.  Regaining  self- 
possession  shesaid  with  a  show  of  authority,  "You 
must  not  act  in  this  way  Clarissa;  what  will  the 
gentleman  think  of  us  if  we  do  not  render  a  proper 
excuse  for  your  misconduct?" 

"Miss  Alice,"  said  Clarissa,  as  she  placed  her 
arms  akimbo,  "Ef  yu  had  seed  dat  dar  man's  eyes 
when  he  sed  he  was  de  jedge  yu'd  er  run  too,  und 
yu  wudn'ter  stopt  running  twell  yit.  My  King! 
dem  eyes  was  wusser  dan  shuting  stors,"  she  ex 
claimed,  as  she  wiped  the  great  beads  of  sweat  from 
her  face  with  her  apron. 

"You  go  co  the  door  now,  and  very  politely  in 
vite  the  gentleman  into  the  parlor,  be  very  careful 
Clarissa  that  you  do  not  offend  him." 

As  .Chirissa,  now  reassured,  was  moving  stealth 
ily  toward  the  door,  her  mistress  overheard  her  say 
to  herself, 

"I  aint  agwine  to  fend  him  epcepts  he  fends  me 
fust,  den  I'm  agwine  ter  run  agin,  und  I  aint  er- 
gwine  ter  stop  no  mo  twell  I  gits  to  de  mashes." 

Clarissa  opened  the  door  with  a  very  polite  bow, 
as  she  addressed  the  stranger  patronizingly. 

"Misses  sed  how  dat  you   mout   come  in,  being 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  261 

how  dat  it  was  yu.  So  cum  erlong  rite  back  of 
me.  Git  outen  cle  way  Jnbe,  er  scrapin  quaintance 
wid  dat  stinguished  white  man,  same  as  he  was  a 
low  down  nigger;  fust  ting  you  knose  yu  be  shut 
up  in  de  jail  house  widout  ary  moufful  of  wittles,  er 
howlin  same  as  er  wildcat." 

It  is  proper  just  here  to  remark  that  Clarissa  had 
never  been  a  correspondent  or  pupil  of  Lord  Ches 
terfield.  She  had  been  emancipated  from  the  slav- 
vish  drudgery  of  the  corn-field,  promoted  as  it 
were  from  the  cabin  to  the  mansion.  Her  manners 
were  direct,  pungent,  self-assertive,  and  her  gib 
berish  and  volubility  were  immensely  amusing  to 
the  high  official  who  was  now  adapting  himself  to 
conditions  and  experiences  as  they  prevailed  in  the 
southland;  and  from  time  to  time  interrogating  the 
negro  as  he  or  she  appeared  without  the  superfici 
alities  of  reconstruction. 

As  Clarissa  saw  Judge  Livingstone  safely  in  the 
parlor  she  went  back  to  her  mistress,  and  with  em 
phasis  of  speech  and  gesture  told  her  what  had 
been  said  and  done,  and  returned  with  the  com 
mands  of  her  mistress  to  the  distinguished  guest. 

"You  jes  set  rite  whar  yu  is  und  mak  yerself 
homelike,  dar  aint  no  foolishness  erbout  our  white 
folks.  Me  und  Miss  Alice  has  been  aworrying  our 
selves  jamby  to  def  ober  de  smutty  cook  pots,  und 
she  says  how  dat  yu  must  scuse  her,"  and  she  wip 
ed  her  black  face  again  with  her  old  apron.  The 
judge  failing  to  comprehend  the  meaning  of  the 
negro  in  the  crude  vernacular  of  the  plantation, 
a  speech  that  under  all  circumstances  with  malice 
prepense  slew  the  idioms  of  the  English  language, 
arose  to  retire,  regretingas  he  said,  "That  he  could 
not  see  her  young  mistress;"  when  Clarissa  with 
great  warmth  expostulated. 

"Hole  on  dar,  Mars  .ledge;  Miss  Alice  is  ergwme 
ter  cum  jes  ez  soon  ez  she  washes  de  smut  offenher 


262  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

face  und  slicks  back  her  eye-brows.  My  king!  duz 
yu  speks  er  high  quality  lady  lak  my  yung  missis 
kin  do  eberyting  in  wun  minit?  She  haint  ergwine 
ter  brake  her  neck  kase  a  jedge  cums  heer  a  court- 
in  her.  My  missis  seed  jedges  fore  ter-day;  yu  aint 
de  onliest  jedge  she  ever  seed."  And  with  this 
confusing  declamation  Clarissa  shuffled  out  of  the 
parlor  with  the  parting  remark,  "Yu's  stay  rite 
whar  yu  is  twell  she  cums." 

When  the  negro  had  gone  the  judge  laughed  im 
moderately.  Indeed,  he  was  laughing  with  wide- 
open  mouth  as  Alice  entered  the  parlor,  and  ad 
vanced  to  grasp  her  hand,  confused  and  stammer 
ing. 

"Ah,  permit  me,"  he  said,  "er,  er,  er,  to  felici 
tate  myself  that  you  have  given  me  the  pleasure 
of  this  interview." 

Alice  felt  a  suspicion  that  the  old  negress  had 
been  amusing  the  learned  judge  in  her  droll  way, 
but  she  did  not  know  to  what  extent  she  had  been 
compromised  by  her  oddities  and  ignorance,  and 
to  quiet  her  apprehensions  as  far  as  she  could,  she 
asked  with  seriousness: 

"How  long  have  you  been  in  our  county?" 

"It  is  my  first  visit,  and  I  have  greatly  enjoyed 
it,"  replied  the  judge,  with  an  effort  to  conceal  his 
mirth.  "The  South  has  been  an  object  lesson  of 
great  educational  value  to  me." 

'Ah!  and  who  are  your  teachers?"    asked  Alice. 

"Why,  who  can  they  be  but  the  negroes?"  re 
plied  the  judge  interrogatively. 

"I  am  quite  surprised!"  exclaimed  the  young 
lady. 

"Not  so  much  so  as  I  have  been,  I  am  sure,"  the 
judge  replied.  "I  am  a  Northern  man  with  a  heart 
firmly  set  against  what  I  believed  to  be  the  vaga 
ries  of  Southern  people:  absorbing  the  sentiments 
and  convictions  of  my  home  folks;  but  since  I 


THE   BROKEN    SWORD.  263 

have  been  in  your  country  I  have  discovered  that 
the  South  has  been  outraged  and  scandalized  be 
yond  the  point  of  endurance.  Do  you  know,"  he 
continued  argumentatively,  "that  I  have  never 
seen  among  my  most  intimate  friends  truer  or  no 
bler  men,  and  I  have  never  seen  in  the  jails  and 
penitentiaries  of  the  north  a  criminal  class  more 
hardened  and  vicious  than  these  wretches  whom 
you  call  carpet-baggers." 

"Yes,  indeed,"  replied  Alice  reflectively,  "they 
have  given  us  a  great  deal  of  trouble,  and  we  are 
so  glad  that  you  have  punished  the  infamous 
wretch  Laflin,  who  has  incited  the  negroes  to  acts 
of  violence  and  bloodshed." 

"Yes,"  replied  the  judge,  "I  only  regret  that 
the  law  interposed  a  limit  to  the  measure  of  pun 
ishment.  I  would  have  been  glad  to  have  sentenced 
the  villain  for  life  to  the  penitentiary  at  hard 
labor. 

"By  the  way,  Miss  Seymour,  the  governor  bade 
me  say  to  your  father  that  he  would  join  us 
here  to-day.  Will  you  convey  the  message  to  him 
at  your  leisure?" 

"Thank  you,  sir,"  said  the  girl.  "Pray  excuse 
me  for  a  moment.  My  falher  will  be  delighted  to 
receive  the  information;  the  governor  is  an  old  and 
dear  friend." 

The  picture  now  presented  to  her  distinguished 
guest,  a  man  of  clear  discernment,  as  Colonel  Sey 
mour,  leaning  upon  the  arm  of  his  lovely  daugh 
ter — whose  beautiful  face  was  aglow  with  health — 
painfully  walked  into  the  parlor,  was  picturesque 
and  pathetic;  indeed,  it  was  the  deepening  twi 
light  and  the  blush  of  Aurora.  Here  were  hard, 
rigid  lines,  corded  and  seamed  by  age,  and  here 
were  the  pencilings  of  the  artist, whose  handiwork 
is  seen  as  well  in  the  exquisite  tintings  of  the  morn 
ing  iris.  Here  were  palsied  limbs,  snow-white 


264  THE   BROKEN    SWORD. 

hair,  accentuated  by  intimate  contact  with  marvel 
lous  beauty  and  litheness  of  figure,  that  impressed 
the  intellectual,  discriminating  judge. 

Advancing  with  extended  hand,  he  met  the  old 
man  upon  the  threshold  of  the  room  with  an  affec 
tionate  refinement  of  manner  that  bespoke  the 
thoroughness  of  the  gentleman;  the  Colonel  ob 
serving  to  his  guest,  as  the  latter  conducted  him  to 
a  chair,  that  the  gout  had  made  a  cripple  of  him, 
but  that  in  all  other  respects  he  was  quite  himself. 
It  was  all  too  evident  to  the  far-sighted  judge  that 
an  unseen  hand  had  its  grasp  upon  the  lever  and 
was  running  the  home-stretch  with  accelerated  mo 
mentum. 

"Your  coming,"  said  the  Colonel,  "has  been  like 
the  bearing  of  a  flag  of  truce;  it  has  given  us  hope 
— life;  it  has  ungeared  the  harrow  that  crushed  us 
so  remorselessly." 

"I  thank  you,  my  dear  sir,"  most  gratefully 
answered  the  judge  with  feeling.  "I  have  endeav 
ored  to  discharge  my  duty,  and  how  could  I  do 
this,  sir,  in  this  country  without  using  the  scourge? 
You  have  a  fine  country  and  a  magnanimous  peo 
ple — a  people  who  love  liberty  and  law — and  it  is 
a  personal  affliction  to  witness  in  how  many  ways 
you  are  insulted  and  oppressed." 

At  this  juncture  Clarissa  knocked  softly  at  the 
door  to  announce  to  her  mistress  "dat  de  guber- 
ment  hez  dun  und  riv,"  and  Alice,  excusing  her 
self,  retired,  concealing  her  laughter  as  much  as 
possible,  which  was  provoked  by  the  ludicrous  de 
ficiencies  of  the  cornfield  negro.  It  was  a  metaphor 
which  the  negro  had  ignorantly  employed.  The 
Governor  was  not  the  government,  or  any  part 
thereof.  Had  he  been,  Ingleside  would  have  been 
safe-guarded  by  a  sentinel  utterly  impervious  to 
any  sensation  of  fear,  not  so  ignorant  or  cowardly 
as  Clarissa. 


THR    BROKEN    SWORD.  265 

The  arrival  of  the  Governor  was  formally  an 
nounced  by  Alice  and  he  was  ushered  into  the 
parlor, and  Alice  withdrew  to  give  some  directions 
to  Clarissa,  whom  she  found  sitting  in  her  rickety 
chair  in  the  kitchen  humming 

"My  ole  Kentucky  home,  fur  away." 

"Clarissa,"  the  young  lady  asked  as  she  ap 
proached  her,  "what  do  you  suppose  the  judge 
thought  of  us  this  morning  and  of  our  maid  of  all 
work?" 

Clarissa  looked  up  into  the  face  of  her  young 
mistress  with  a  stare  almost  of  vacuity,  and  after 
a  moment's  reflection  said,  with  her  accustomed 
pertness, 

"I  kaint  hep  dat,  Miss  Alice,  ole  marser  dun  und 
gin  me  my  orders,  und  I  want  agwine  ter  let  no 
body  pass  nur  repass  ef  I  knoed  it.  Ole  marser 
he  noes  his  bizness,  und  ef  he  tells  me  ter  keep  de 
kyarpet-sackers  outen  dis  grate  house  I'm  ergwine 
ter  do  it  ef  de  good  Lawd  spares  me.  Don't  fault 
me,  Miss  Alice,  wid  ole  marser' s  doins,  fur  de  lan's 
sake.  How  cum  dat  dar  jedge  outen  here  any  how? 
Dar  aint  no  kote  ergwine  on  in  dis  heer  grate  house 
dat  I  noes  of.  Specks  dar  is  ergwine  ter  be  wun 
do,  und  don't  specks  nuffin  else  but  sumbody  is 
ergwine  ter  git  conwicted  und  sont  clean  erway 
frum  heer,"  and  the  old  negro  laughed  boister 
ously.  "Dat  dar  jedge  is  er  portly  man,  but  my 
king!  dem  dar  eyes,  ugh-h-h  !  cuts  froo  yu  same  ez 
er  razor." 

Alice  laughed  again  and  again  at  the  old  negro, 
and  after  awhile  coyishly  remarked,  "Never  mind, 
Clarissa,  never  mind." 

Clarissa  turned  her  old  head  to  one  side  as  she 
replied  with  great  earnestness. 

"Taint  wurf  while  to  say  neber  mind  Clarsy, 
neber  mind,  I  seed  fo  now  what  was  agwine  to  be 
de  upshot  of  dis  bisniss.  I  knowed  pine  plank 


266  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

which  er  way  de  cat  wuz  er  gwine  to  jump.  Ole 
missus  allus  sed  dat  yu  was  ergwine  to  marry  er 
jedge  er  a  lyar  er  a  mefodis  slidin  elder  er  a  sircus 
rider  und  I  hopes  und  prays  dat  yu  may,  kase 
ef  yu  don't  youse  ergwine  ter  be  er  lone  lorn  orfin 
creetur  arter  ole  marser's  hed  dun  und  layed  low." 

The  conversation  of  the  distinguished  gentleman 
naturally  drifted  into  channels  that  had  been  cut 
very  deep  by  the  sharp  edged  tools  of  reconstruc 
tion;  the  judge  deferentially  yielding  to  his  se 
niors  who  had  witnessed  the  workmanship  of  un 
skilled  hands,  and  what  he  ventured  to  say  from 
time  to  time  was  in  the  way  of  suggestions  or  mild 
expostulations. 

The  Governor  when  discussing  reconstruction 
was  opinionated  and  emphatic.  Every  paragraph 
was  punctuated  with  a  sneer, jesture  or  frown. 

"Had  the  suggestions  of  president  Lincoln  pre 
vailed,  "he  began,  "the  South  would  have  been  God's 
country;  but  wicked  counsels  predominated.  There 
was  not  a  statute  enacted  by  a  legislature,  nor  an 
order  made  by  a  general,  nor  a  proclamation  issued 
by  a  governor,  nor  a  requisition  made  by  the  head 
of  a  departmentt  that  did  not  whet  the  sword  with 
which  they  were  prodding  into  the  bowels  of  the 
South,  after  the  final  capitulation.  These  atrocious 
policies  were  conceptions  of  men  who  swore  in 
their  wrath  that  not  a  blade  of  grass  should  spring 
where  their  hellish  coursers  planted  hoof;  that  in 
the  realigning  of  the  federal  union,  strong  black 
lines  should  be  drawn  with  a  savage  vengeance 
over  the  face  of  the  South.  Reconstruction  was 
the  act  of  self-destruction,  and  the  suicides  de 
serve  to  be  buried  without  the  shedding  of  a  tear, 
without  Christian  sepulture  in  outlawed  graves.  They 
made  the  thorn  to  spring  up  where  the  fir-tree  had 
flourished,  and  the  bramble  instead  of  the  myrtle 
tree.  In  these  abominable  acts  there  is  death; 


TUP]    BROKEN    SWORD.  267 

death  enough  to  satisf y  the  grave.  Before  the  ink 
was  dry  upon  the  parchment,  before  the  funereal 
bake-meats  were  cold,  they  contract  an  unnatural 
covenant  of  marriage  with  four  million  slaves,  dis 
banded  outlaws  from  the  army,  and  put  upon  them 
the  mask  of  freedom  to  conceal  the  horrid  front  of 
tyranny.  Sirs,  we  rebel  against  the  outrage. 
When  the  Philistines  are  upon  us  shall  we  not 
rise  and  shake  ourselves,  or  shall  we  lay  our  heads 
in  the  lap  of  Delilah,  to  be  shorn  of  oar  power;  to 
be  bound  in  chains,  until  we  shall  pray  God  to 
avenge  our  wrongs  in  the  common  destruction  of 
ourselves  and  our  enemies.  No  sirs,  they  shall  find 
that  when  we  are  prostrated,  that  like  Antaeus  we 
shall  rise  with  renewed  vigor  from  our  shame. 
Why  this  glozing  title  "Reconstruction  ?"  Who 
shall  declare  its  generation  ?  What  holy  font  was 
polluted  by  its  baptism  ?  Whence  its  bastard  or 
igin  ?  Plots,  the  vile  brood  of  malice  have  been 
hatched  under  fanatical  incubation  and  piloted 
southward,  like  flocks  of  harpies,  that  by  their  un- 
cleaness  they  might  defile  our  civilization.  Every 
blight  of  calumny  from  ultra  partisan — press  and 
pulpit,  has  been  blown  upon  southern  character. 
Their  speeches  are  filled  with  fields  scourged  down 
to  barrenness,  and  negroes  multiplied  and  worked 
up  to  the  very  tragedy  of  indiscriminate  assassina 
tions.  We  will  not  propitiate  the  black  devils  by 
heaping  their  altars  with  sacrifices;  black  fiends 
who,  like  the  great  dragon  in  the  Apocalypse,  are 
sweeping  after  them  into  the  abysm,  filled  with 
slaughter,  one  third  of  the  stars  in  our  political 
heaven.  Which  of  these  stars  are  to  be  fixed,  or 
which  are  to  be  planetary  in  this  black  firmament  of 
eternal  night;  which  primary,  and  which  central, 
which  wandering  stars  and  which  satellites,  are 
matters  for  their  savage  taste.  For  my  state  may 
God  in  his  infinite  mercy  decree  that  the  laws  of 


268  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

position  and  movement  may  be  ascertained  and  es 
tablished,  before  it,  once  so  beautiful  and  bright, 
shall  go  down  and  down  forever  below  a  horizon  of 
blood.  They  may  like  wrestlers  in  the  arena 
bring  us  to  our  knees,  but  never  sir,  shall  they  lay 
us  on  our  backs.  Let  us  alone,  and  the  dews  and 
the  rains  and  the  sunshine  of  heaven,  (the  only 
creatures  of  God  left  by  them  in  friendship  with 
us)  shall  give  to  our  blood-stained  fields  moisture 
and  fertility,  and  time  and  labor  and  God's  bless 
ing  shall  cover  the  land  with  verdure,  with  cotton- 
fields  and  gardens,  pastures  and  meadows.  They 
promised  us  peace,  and  it  came  with  the  mutter- 
ings  of  a  tornado.  In  our  vain  efforts  to  comprom 
ise  the  situation  we  turned  our  backs  upon  the 
past,  hallowed  as  were  its  memor  es.  We  had 
ceased  to  remember  the  execrations  of  fanatics, 
even  the  'league  with  the  devil,  and  the  covenant 
with  hell.' 

"We  did  all  this  and  more, after  we  had  passed 
fire- scathed  through  an  ordeal  whose  voice  was 
storm  and  whose  movement  was  earthquake,  which 
swept  from  us  every  visible  substance;  so  that  in 
our  last  and  extremest  agony  we  were  forced  to 
cry  aloud,  like  Francis  at  Pavia,  "All  is  lost  save 
honor."  We  gave  the  government  our  parole;  we 
hammered  our  swords  into  plow-shares  and  prun- 
ing-hooks;  we  pitched  our  tents  upon  the  fire- 
blasted  lands  where  once  had  been  our  homes,  and 
with  axe  and  mattock  and  blade  and  plow  began 
to  cut  away  brambles  and  bushes  and  cultivate 
our  fields;  and  when  we  believed  that  we  were  se 
cure  in  the  enjoyment  of  our  rights  of  persons  and 
property,  the  authors  of  reconstruction  swept  down 
upon  the  beleaguered  South  like  Hyder  Ali  upon 
the  Carnatic,  and  left  scarcely  a  vestige  upon  which 
to  hope, or  from  which  to  re-build, except  our  worn- 
out  lands  and  our  own  splendid  manhood  and 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  269 

womanhood.  States  were  despoiled  of  their  re 
sources,  towns  and  cities  were  battered  and  burn 
ed;  the  angel  of  death  had  crossed  every  thresh- 
hold,  and  three  hundred  thousand  of  the  flower 
and  chivalry  of  the  land  were  lying  in  soldiers' 
graves.  Our  public  institutions  were  languishing 
unto  death;  from  centre  to  circumference  there 
were  outlawries,  assassinations,  conflagrations;  and 
our  people  looked  into  the  faces  of  each  other 
and  in  their  helplessness  asked  what  other  calami 
ties  are  reserved  for  us  and  our  children.  They 
seized  upon  four  million  slaves  and  hurled  them 
like  immense  projectiles  against  our  civilization. 
And  to  conclude,  sir, for  I  find  I  am  getting  excited, 
in  this  catastrophe  our  hopes  were  stayed  upon  the 
honest  men  of  the  North,  like  you,  sir,  and  our 
noble,  patriotic  women,  like  you,  my  dear  miss," 
bowing  with  boyish  gallantry  to  Alice.  "The 
women  of  the  sixties  are  more  than  heroines  in 
the  storm-swept  crisis — they  are  a  revelation  in  the 
flesh.  What  Arria  was  to  Pretus,  what  Natalia 
was  to  Adrian,  what  Gertrude  was  to  Rudolph, 
what  Helen,  the  Jennie  Dean  of  the  'Heart  of  Mid 
lothian,'  was  to  Tibbie,  what  Prascovia  was  to  the 
Russian  exile,  our  self-sacrificing  women  are  to  us. 
There  has  never  been  an  occasion  when  the  habit 
of  instantaneous  obedience  to  the  voice  of  love  and 
country  has  produced  more  affecting  and  constant 
instances  of  devotion  and  loyalty  upon  the  part  of 
the  women,  than  in  the  gleaning  of  the  aftermath 
by  hands  saturated  with  all  the  crimes  of  the  cal 
endar. 

"And  now,  gentlemen,  (the  Governor  bowed),  if 
I  have  given  offence  by  any  intemperate  expres 
sion,  will  you  please  forgive  me,  for  my  wrath 
waxes  warm  when  concentrated  upon  the  subject 
of  reconstruction.  Perhaps,  sir,"  he  continued, 
addressing  His  Honor,  "you  are  not  in  sympathy 


270  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

with  the  views  I  may  have  inconsiderately  express 
ed?" 

"Why,  my  dear  sir,"  the  judge  replied,  "I  have 
never  been  in  sympathy  with  a  policy  which  you 
have  so  eloquently  denounced,  and  which  the  pa 
triotic  people  of  the  North  sincerely  deprecate,  and 
I  quite  agree  with  you  that  reconstruction  has  un 
locked  a  Pandora  box  of  evils  whose  fledgelings 
are  hovering  over  this  land." 

The  sun  was  now  setting  with  an  iridescent  au 
reole  of  gold  and  carmine  and  purple  as  the  judge 
remarked  apologetically,  "I  have  been  struggling 
with  myself  between  inclination  and  duty;  indeed 
I  find  it  embarrassingly  difficult  to  tear  myself 
from  so  charming  a  circle.  I  have  only  a  few 
minutes  to  catch  the  train,  and  you  don't  know 
how  much  I  grieve  to  say  good-bye.  I  shall  be  in 
your  town  again  within  the  next  month,  and  may 
I  indulge  the  hope  that  I  shall  be  once  more  wel 
comed  at  Ingleside?" 

"We  shall  only  be  too  glad  to  be  similarly  hon 
ored,"  replied  Colonel  Seymour  with  deference. 

Clarissa,  who  was  standing  near  the  door  with  her 
arms  folded  and  grinning  like  a  blackamoor,  gave 
the  judge  the  parting  bow,  as  he  placed  into  her 
hand  a  dollar  note,  and  putting  her  apron  to  her 
face,  so  she  might  whisper  the  better,  with  a  ne- 
groish  curtsy,  said, 

"Yu  mus  sho  cum  ergin  mars  jedge,  our  fokses 
laks  yu  mazing,  und  I'm  ergwine  ter  tell  yu  de 
nex  time  what  Miss  Alice  dun  und  sed  erbout  yu; 
I  knose  dats  ergwine  ter  fotch  yu  back." 

The  Governor  remained  at  Ingleside  throughout 
the  night  and  like  a  gladiator  in  the  arena  was 
lighting,  with  the  broad  sword  of  invective,  a  duel 
in  dialectics  with  the  parliamentarians  of  recon 
struction;  the  Colonel  the  meanwhile  reinforcing 
the  athlete  as  a  reserve.  Alice  at  a  late  hour  re- 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  271 

tired  with  her  head  filled  with  fantastic  notions, 
and  Clarissa  too  stretched  her  aching  bones  upon 
her  bed  wondering  in  her  pragmatic  way,  "Ef  dat 
shiny  eyed  judge  was  agwine  ter  hold  his  sho  nuff 
kote  in  de  grate  house,  und  ef  she  was  agwine  ter 
be  de  juror  und  Miss  Alice  de  konwick." 

Old  Joshua  like  an  overripe  sheaf  of  barley  was 
now  to  lay  his  head  in  the  d.ust.  The  swift  horses 
were  harnessed  and  cantering  toward  his  door. 

"Son  of  man  behold  I  take  away  Irom  thee  the 
desire  of  thine  eyes  with  a  stroke,  yet  neither 
shalt  thou  mourn,  neither  shalt  thy  tears  run 
down."  Four  score  and  two  years  were'  the  days  of 
the  years  of  his  pilgrimage;  many  and  evil  had  the 
days  of  his  years  been.  Would  there  be  mourners 
at  the  burial '{  Will  'old  glory'  hang  its  head  again 
as  it  did  at  the  assizes,  when  an  outraged  common 
wealth  was  proceeding  to  judgment  against  Lafiin 
for  enumerated  trangressions  ?  Threescore  and  ten 
years  are  the  complement  of  life,  within  which  the 
balance  sheet  is  prepared;  repenting  against  sin 
ning;  undoing  against  doing;  dying  against  living; 
accounts  and  contra-accounts.all  fairly  computed, 
and  the  quotient  announced  by  Him  who  breathes 
into  man's  nostrils  the  breath  of  life.  Four  score 
and  two  years  !  What  changes  in  the  theories  and 
forms  of  governments;  what  contrarieties  in  the 
pursuits  and  ambitions  of  man.  The  messen 
ger  came  without  the  rattling  of  wheels,  with 
out  knocking  at  the  door,  came  on  unsandaled 
feet. 

"Hannah,  I'm  agwine  home,  good-bye/'  was  the 
hurried  parting,  as  the  messenger  thrust  him  into 
his  chariot.  Side  by  side  he  sat  with  the  voiceless 
ambassador,  while  the  stars  were  twinkling  in  the 
midnight  sky;  a  fast  disappearing  type  of  the  pic 
turesque  civilization  of  the  sixties.  His  tracks 
around  the  old  commissariat  are  now  faded  into 


272  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

nothingness,  and  old  glory  will  wave  on  and  on 
"froo  de  trees,"  just  as  proudly  as  that  day  when 
he  stood  at  its  staff  and  patriotically  saluted  the 
stars  and  stripes  with  uncovered  head, proclaiming 
his  loyalty  in  the  grateful  expression,  '*!  node 
when  I  seed  yu  a  sea-sawing  in  de  air  dat  dar  was 
a  stummick  full  of  good  wittles  some  whays." 

In  the  true  representative  outlines  of  the  old 
South  there  is  a  number  dropped  from  the  rolls, 
that  is  all.  In  its  new  birth  of  constitutional  lib 
erty,  postponed  until  patriots  shall  have  tired  of 
a  government  inefficient  and  venal,  the  memory  of 
Joshua,  laden  with  fragrance,  will  cling  to  hearts 
that  now  deplore  his  death.  Good  bye,  Uncle 
Joshua  until  we  meet  upon  the  golden  strand!  Un 
til  we  see  you  again  without  your  staff,  with  your 
face  radiant  with  a  celestial  gleam,  in  a  fleecy  robe, 
with  golden  sandals;  until  we  hear  you  say  so  con 
tentedly,  "Brederin,  dere  is  kommissaries  all  er- 
roun  in  dis  butiful  country,  und  yu  kin  buy  wid- 
out  munny  und  widout  price." 


THE   BROKEN    SWORD.  273 


CHAPTER    XXII. 


AN    HOUR   WITH    DICKENS. 

Alice  felt  that  she  could  see  a  new  light  come 
into  the  window,  into  the  old  home,  into  her  soul; 
that  a  peace  had  come  visibly  into  the  shadowed 
mansion,  now  that  Aleck  and*Ephraim  and  the  ne 
gro  constable  were  dead  in  the  mud  of  the  river; 
now  that  the  Federal  head  had  been  removed  by 
the  battle-axe  of  the  fearless  judge.  She  began  to 
hope  again,  perhaps  to  love  again,  who  shall  say  ? 
There  was,  it  may  be,  a  tiny  sunbeam  coquetting 
with  the  old  shadows  that  had  so  long  overlaid 
every  approach  to  her  young  heart,  and  perhaps 
a  little  be-jewelled  goldsmith  was  tinkering  and 
hammering  upon  a  tiny  arrow  pointed  with  a  ruby, 
and  feathered  with  tiny  pinions  of  some  diminu 
tive  bird,  that  nested  among  fragrant  mangoes  far 
away  in  the  isles  of  the  sea,  with  which  be  was  to 
shoot  down  those  unsightly  idols  that  had  long 
pre-empted  her  heart.  The  days  were  loitering, 
she  thought,  in  their  flight,  and  the  little  brownie 
who  had  been  counting  the  numerals  of  time  in 
their  tiight  had  fallen  asleep,  and  the  old  clock  in 
the  great  hall  ticked  languidly  as  if  it  were  tired 
to  death  with  its  unvarying  round  of  toil. 

In  this  awakening  to  the  brighter  possibilities 
whom  should  she  clasp  to  her  heart  but  her  old 
friend,  Charles  Dickens?  The  Dickens  of  Dom- 
bey,  of  Bleakhouse,  of  David  Copperiield.  She 
remembered  how  this  marvellous  story-teller,  so 
familiar  to  all  young  readers,  who  had  so  many 
children  of  his  own,  the  offspring  of  an  overflow 
ing  fancy,  one  bleak  day  had  passed  up  and  down 
18 


274  THE   BROKEN    SWORD. 

Westminster  Hall,  clasping  to  his  heart  the  maga 
zine  that  contained  his  first  effusions,  with  eyes 
dimmed  with  pride  and  joy,  as  he  dropped  stealth 
ily,  at  twilight,  a  suspicious  package  into  a  dark 
letter  box  down  a  dark  alley.  How  many  times 
the  narrative  had  woven  golden  filaments  here  and 
there  through  the  warp  of  reconstruction!  What  a 
bright  filagree  into  the  shadows  that  were  unceas 
ingly  coming  and  going  !  How  many  happy  hours 
she  had  whiled  away  with  Mr.  Pickwick  and  his 
admiring  friends  !  How  delightfully  she  had  been 
entertained  by  the  wit  of  Samuel  Weller,  the  elo 
quence  of  Sergeant  Buzfuz,  of  Captain  Bunsby ! 
Many  a  hypochondriac  had  laughed  immoderately 
at  the  ludicrous  exercises  of  Crummies  and  the  in 
fant  phenomenon  !  What  a  charming  companion 
is  Dick  Swiveller,  the  inimitable  !  Dear  old  Dick; 
reeling  now  and  then  from  excess  of  wine,  but  great 
hearted  withal.  Who  does  not  even  now  occasion 
ally  inhale  the  fragrant  odors  of  the  delicious 
punches  compounded  by  that  blighted  being,  Mr. 
Wilkins  Micawber,  as  he  listens  to  Sairy  Gamp 
and  laughs  at  Mrs.  Harriss  ?  Where  is  the  tender 
hearted  Christian  who  would  shout  for  a  police 
man,  while  they  are  ducking  Shepherd,  orpommel- 
ling  Squeers,  or  cudgelling  Pecksniff,  or  inflicting 
divers  and  deserved  assaults  upon  Uriah  Heep  2 
With  what  a  motley  crowd  of  living  characters 
Dickens  has  peopled  our  literature  \  What  child 
ren  were  ever  like  his  children  ?  What  homes  were 
ever  like  their  homes  ?  There  is  little  Pip  and  hon 
est  old  Joe  Gargery,  who  pauses  for  a  moment  at 
his  anvil  to  observe  with  animation,  "Which  I 
mean  ter  say,  that  if  you  come  into  my  place  bull 
baiting  and  badgering  me,  come  out  !  Which  I 
mean  ter  say,  as  sech,  if  yu're  a  man,  come  on! 
which  I  mean  to  say  that  what  I  mean  ter  say,  I 
mean  to  say  and  stand  or  fall  by;"  and  Mrs.  Joe 


THE   BROKEN    SWORD.  275 

over  watchful  and  over  masterful  always,  who  in 
the  alembic  of  nature  had  discovered  no  better 
way  of  bringing  little  Pip  up  than  "by  hand." 
Then  there  is  little  Oliver  Twist,  a  poor  little  waif, 
always  hungry,  licking  the  platter  and  now  and 
then, embarrassingly  asking  "for  more;"  and  poor 
Smikes  is  more  terribly  tragic,  for  he  lived  longer; 
and  little  Nell  the  heart  child  of  unnumbered 
thousands,  tramping  along  the  roads, footsore  and 
'ever  so  weary,a  poor  little  wanderer  without  home, 
until  the  good  Lord  looks  down  into  her  tearful 
eyes  and  says  one  day,  "Little  Nell  your  little 
hands  and  your  little  feet  and  your  little  heart  are 
so  tired,  will  you  not  come  with  me,  child?"  And 
little  Paul  Dombey  lying  wearily  in  the  trundle 
bed,  within  sound  of  the  manifold  voices  of  the  sea, 
turns  languidly  to  his  sister  Florence  and  asks 
with  the  natural  inquisitiveness  of  a  child,  "What 
are  the  wild  waves  saying?"  And  Joe  All  Jones 
moves  almost  heedlessly  on  to  death  through  more 
streets  than  those  of  London  ;  and  Tom  Pinch, 
Betsy  Trotwood  and  faithful  old  Peggotty  and 
Ham,  whose  very  oddities  and  deficiences  are  turn 
ed  into  a  crown  of  glory;  and  the  sneering  melodra 
matic  villains  and  scape-graces,  Monck  and  Quilp, 
and  the  blind  man  in  Barnaby  Rudge,  and  the  Jew 
Fagan  and  Murdstone  and  Carker  ;  and  the  high 
spirited  Steerforth  and  Nickleby  and  Creakle,and 
Stiggins  and  Chadband  and  Sampson  Brass  and 
Snawley;  and  poor  little  idiotic  Barnaby,  as  on  the 
way  to  "the  gallows  he  points  to  the  stars,  and  says 
to  Hugh  of  the  Maypole,  "I  guess  we  shall  know 
who  made  the  stars  now;"  and  last  of  all,  but  not 
least,  Pecksniff,  the  masterpiece  of  them  all.  From 
boot  to  hat  he  is  all  over  and  all  under, Pecksniff; 
drunk  or  sober  he  is  Pecksniff.  He  is  the  virtuous 
Pecksniff  all  the  time,  and  altogether.  He  hugs  him 
self  to  his  own  heart  as  the  embodiment  of  all  the 


276  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

virtues  of  the  decalogue  and  the  beatitudes.  No 
matter  into  what  rascality  he  may  be  plunging,  his 
serene  self  conscious  virtue  never  forsakes  him. 
The  child  wife,  too,  passes  by  us  into  the  spirit  land, 
and  there  is  the  beautiful, dreamy  eyed  Agnes,  who 
quite  charms  us  with  her  love  and  trust,  and  the 
sad,  calm  face  of  Florence  looks  timidly  upon  us; 
and  Mrs.  Jellyby  tells  us  to  look  out  for  Borio- 
boola  Gha;  and  poor  Micawber  informs  us  that 
nothing  has  turned  up  yet,  and  hinting  darkly 
about  laudanum  and  razors.  What  a  marvellous 
characterization  !  Will  the  world  ever  tire  of  this 
man  and  his  children,  that  he  has  materialized  out 
of  ideals  so  unpromising;  whom  he  has  reared  up 
in  the  slums  of  London,  many  of  them  upon  gar 
bage  ? 

The  blessed  Sabbath  day  was  passing  unevent 
fully.  There  were  no  alarms  from  any  source.  Old 
Hannah  in  her  gloom  was  moving  in  and  out  of  the 
office  and  the  "ole  master"  who  had  retired  to  his 
bed  chamber  was  weakening  as  the  days  would 
come  and  go.  Alice,  with  the  acumen  of  an  ex 
perienced  physician,  was  noting  the  changes  from 
time  to  time,  and  realized  that  the  final  change 
would  come  some  day  and  perhaps  at  an  hour 
least  expected.  The  sad  life  of  little  Nell  had 
wrought  upon  her  womanly  feelings  and  she  be 
gan  to  think  of  herself,  her  situation,  of  her  lone 
liness  should  her  father  be  taken  from  her,  and 
she  thought  of  the  crude  inelegant  suggestion  of 
old  Clarissa. 

"De  crowsfoot  is  ergwine  to  cum  into  yer  lubly 
face,  und  kurlykus  and  frowns  under  yer  eyes,  und 
what  wud  you  do  in  dis  grate  big  grate  house,  und 
dis  great  big  plantashun  by  yer  lone  lorn  self." 

The  contemplation  of  such  a  situation  could  only 
harrow  her  heart  more  and  more,  but  there  was 
the  gallant  Arthur  lying  over  in  Virginia,  and  she 


THE   BROKEN    SWORD.  277 

had  plighted  her  troth  to  him  that  day,  that  she 
reviewed  the  cavalry  parade,  when  he  stood  by 
her  side  so  handsome,  so  happy,  in  his  Confeder 
ate  uniform,  with  the  nodding  plumes  in  his  hat, 
when  he  said  to  her,  "Sweet  Alice, will  you  be  true 
to  me  until  I  return  from  the  war?'  And  she  prom 
ised  him  with  a  kiss  that  she  would;  and  if  dear 
Arthur  you  shall  never  return,  Alice  will  still  be 
true  to  you." 

Is  there  no  limitation  to  such  a  contract;  are  not 
its  conditions  already  performed  ?  She  asked  her 
self.  Assuredly  there  are  no  marriages  in  Heaven. 
She  remembered  that  the  Saviour  of  the  world  had 
said  to  the  Sadducees,  "Ye  do  err  not  knowing  the 
scriptures,  nor  the  power  of  God.  For  in  the  res 
urrection  they  neither  marry,  nor  are  given  in 
marriage,  but  are  as  the  angels  of  God  in  Heaven." 
"Arthur  knew  that  I  loved  him — that  I  loved  him 
from  our  childhood,  and  I  am  sure  that  our  friends 
as  they  enter  the  gates,  are  greeted  by  our  friends 
up  there,  and  that  they  ask  with  so  much  interest 
and  affection  about  their  loved  ones  in  this  sad, 
lonely  terrene. 

If  Arthur  could  speak  to  rne  now,  and  could 
know  that  ere  long  I  shall  be  bereft  of  the  last 
of  my  kindred.  I  am  sure  he  would  say  to  me  with 
a  smile,  "Sweet  Alice,  your  loving  heart  has  been 
my  own  all  these  sad  years,  but  we  cannot  marry 
here,  though  we  may  be  sweethearts.  You  require 
a  manly  heart  in  which  you  may  place  your  bur 
dens,  and  a  manly  bosom  upon  which  you  may  re 
cline  your  tired,  wearied  head;  strong  arms  that 
shall  shield  you  from  every  peril.  Think  of  me 
at  the  nuptial  hour  and  know  that  I  shall  give 
you  away  at  the  altar  with  my  blessing  and  smile." 

Thus  ran  the  current  of  her  meditation.  Thus 
in  her  fancy  she  was  scattering  over  the  flagstones, 
in  the  nave  of  the  old  church,  a  sheen  as  of  pure 


278  THE    BKOKEN    SWORD. 

gold.  Tired  out  with  these  thoughts  she  fell 
asleep  in  her  chair,  and  her  dreams  were  sweet  and 
refreshing  until  she  was  awakened  by  a  gentle  rap 
upon  the  door  which  announced  the  presence  of  her 
father. 

Ned  had  now  been  installed  as  the  butler  at 
Ingleside.  Clarissa  observing  as  he  assumed  his 
untried  office,  "Dat  Ned  was  more  spryer  und  cud 
fend  fur  hesef  bettern  oman  fokses.  What  cud 
wun  lone  lorn  oman  do  ef  de  carpet-sackers  shud 
come  back  sho  nuff.  Old  marser  ort  to  fort  ob  dis 
fo  now." 

The  valuable  estate  of  Burnbrae,  an  adjoining 
plantation,  had  fallen  under  the  auctioneer's  ham 
mer  for  unpaid  taxes  and  an  overdue  mortgage. 
The  old  owner  had  struggled  with  adverse  fate  to 
preserve  it  for  his  children,  in  the  same  plight  it 
had  descended  to  him  from  his  ancestors;  saving 
and  excepting  reasonable  wear  and  tear  and  other 
unavoidable  casualties.  This  large  estate  of  more 
than  two  thousand  acres  had  been  purchased  by 
Judge  Bonham  with  its  impedimenta  of  freed 
slaves  that  had  been  dumped  into  its  cellars  like 
offal  by  the  Freedman's  Bureau. 

This  incident  alone  was  a  sad  commentary  upon 
the  times.  From  affluence  to  penury  the  descent 
had  been  sheer  and  without  the  fault  of  Mr.  Bar 
ing  the  owner.  Judge  Bonham  said  to  him  how 
ever  that  he  should  not  want,  and  that  he  might 
remain  where  he  was  at  least  for  the  present.  The 
purchasing  of  this  property  was  the  occasion  of  a 
visit  from  that  distinguished  proprietor  to  Colonel 
Seymour  at  Ingleside.  Judge  Bonham  had  been  a 
distinguished  lawyer  and  jurist,  and  in  the  very 
best  of  times  had  highly  dignified  his  profession  by 
a  seat  upon  the  Superior  Court  bench.  He  was, 
however,  confronted  now  by  a  condition  and  not  a 
theory.  He  had  interviewed  from  time  to  time  the 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  279 

authors  of  his  text  books,  digests  and  reports,  but 
from  their  dead  lips  came  no  satisfactory  response  to 
the  question,  "What  shall  be  done  with  these  poor 
negroes  ?  Thrust  out  of  their  home  nests  like  un 
fledged  eaglets,  their  very  sustenance  precarious 
and  their  condition  the  most  pitiable  and  squalid. 
Idlers  and  vagrants,  watching  like  a  shipwrecked 
crew  hopelessly  for  succor,  when  there  is  none  to 
come. 

It  happened  that  the  judge  and  the  Colonel  were 
in  confidential  communication  for  more  than  an 
hour,  and  doubtless  the  subject  was  exhaustively 
examined  and  reviewed,  as  if  it  were  under  a  mi 
croscope.  The  judge,  had  been  a  widower  for  a 
few  years,  was  a  man  of  quite  dignified  presence, 
and  perhaps  fifty-five  years  of  age.  He  had  seen 
Alice  but  once  before,  at  the  Memorial  exercises 
at  the  cemetery,  and  to-day  he  comtemplated  the 
southern  beauty  as  if  he  were  looking  upon  the 
face  of  Beatrice  Cencias  it  smiles  upon  the  throngs 
from  the  gallery  at  Florence.  Her  exquisite  grace, 
her  extraordinary  beauty,  rekindled  instantly  the 
fire  that  had  burned  down  into  dead  ashes  so  many 
years  ago. 

He  asked  himself  the  question,  "Can  I  be  in 
love  ?  Have  I  been  ensnared  by  the  pretty  fowler, 
enmeshed  by  the  witcheries,  the  fascinations  of  this 
royal  and  unsophisticated  beauty?"  And  all  this 
done  and  accomplished  without  the  movement  of  a 
finger  upon  her  part. 

"You,  Livy  Bonham,  almost  in  the  sere  leaf,  a 
veteran  of  fifty -four  years,  striking  the  flag  to  a 
feebly  manned  battery  of  bewitching  blue  eyes 
before  it  has  opened  fire  !  Impossible  !  Impossible  ! 
This  exclamation  was  just  loud  enough  for  the 
Colonel  to  overhear,  who  enquired  of  the  judge, 
"what  it  was  that  was  impossible  ?" 


280  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

"Ah,  I  was  thinking  if  I  couldn't  persuade  the 
negroes  to  vacate  my  premises,  that  was  all." 

"Perhaps  I  may  find  it  necessary  to  consult  you 
further,  say  to  morrow.  You  know  I  am  living  at 
Burnbrae  now,  and  the  distance  between  us  is  very 
short,  and  I  am  sure  we  shall  become  very  inti 
mate." 

When  the  judge  left  the  mansion  the  old  man, 
accompanied  by  Alice  sought  r^st  in  the  parlor 
upon  one  of  the  mahogany  sofas. 

"And  now  my  daughter  you  will  please  take  up 
your  boook  again  and  read  to  me.  What  are  you 
reading,"  he  continued. 

"I  was  reading  just  then  my  dear  father,  the 
girl  replied,  about  the  death  of  little  Paul  Dom- 
bey.  I  never  weary  of  sentiments  so  heart  pervad 
ing  that  I  find  running  like  golden  threads  through 
all  of  Dickens'  works.  You  remember  little  Paul, 
father?" 

"Yes,  oh  yes,"  replied  the  old  man,  "Read  it  all 
over  again." 

And  Alice  in  her  sweet,  musical  voice  read  so 
soothingly  to  her  father  that  he  sank  to  sleep. 

Closing  the  door  softly  behind  her  she  went  out 
into  the  verandah  and  sang  quite  plaintively  one 
or  more  old  songs,  it  might  have  been  for  the  little 
birds  that  were  piping  their  notes  too  in  the  tree 
boughs  above  her. 

Shall  we  slip  away  from  Alice  for  a  moment  to 
invade  the  privacy  of  the  judge  ? 

If  the  judge  had  knowledge  of  our  unbidden 
presence,  would  he  not  say  in  the  law  latin  that  we 
had  committed  a  trespass,  "quare  clattsum  fregitt 
Oh,  no,  it  would  flatter  him  immensely  to  suspect 
that  he  was  in  love,  and  that  with  the  beauty  of 
Ingleside.  He  was  stupidly  ignorant  after  pro 
pounding  the  question  a  score  of  times  to  himself, 


THE   BROKEN    SWORD.  281 

his  answer,  dubiously  made,   was  always,    "Well 
we  shall  see  perhaps." 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 


THE   ABSENT-MINDED    JUDGE. 

Burnbrae,  the  home  of  the  Barings,  with  its  pro 
ductive  acres  fringed  by  vine-clad  vales  and  hills, 
had  by  an  irrevocable  event  passed  irredeemably 
out  of  the  possession  of  its  embarrassed  owner, 
and  heart-broken  the  old  man  yielded  his  tenure 
to  the  new  master.  The  mortgage  debt  and  taxes, 
like  omniverous  caterpillars,  began  to  eat  away  at 
its  four  corners  at  one  and  the  same  time.  Mr.  Bar 
ing  could  only  await  the  inevitable  hour  with  the 
saddest  apprehensions.  For  himself  it  was  a  matter 
of  little  consequence,  for  like  the  sea-tossed  sailor, 
he  could  discern  within  the  length  of  a  cable  the 
ultimate  haven,  land-locked  and  tranquil;  but  for 
his  two  daughters  who  would  survive  him  the 
stroke  was  almost  heart-crushing. 

The  forced  sales  of  beautiful  homesteads  like 
Burnbrae,  in  the  days  of  reconstruction  were  not 
much  of  an  incident;  when  there  was  no  halting 
by  that  unbrigaded  army  that  was  laying  waste 
field  and  plantation,  and  scourging  the  land  into 
nakedness;  when  by  the  extra  judicial  processes  of 
assimilation  and  absorption  the  spoils  system  was 
budding  into  a  vigorous  life  and  the  spoilsmen  were 
animated,  remorseless  and  persevering. 

Around  this  home  there  were  memories  dear  and 
tender,  trellissed  in  the  affections  of  the  Barings; 


.282  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

incense  came  forth  from  chambers  and  bowers,  and 
out  yonder  where  the  smooth  white  stones  glisten 
in  the  moonlight  like  platoons  of  white-gowned 
maidens,  the  Baring  generations  lay  in  unbroken 
files. 

It  is  a  sad  thing  to  see  a  home,  like  a  worthless 
chattel,  under  the  hammer  of  a  callous-hearted 
auctioneer;  to  hear  him  cry  going,  going,  going, 
with  as  much  delight  as  if  he  were  parting  com 
pany  with  a  pestilence;  but  alas!  with  the  owner 
it  is  like  a  judgment  of  outlawry  to  pass  the  keys, 
the  symbolical  title,  to  the  purchaser,  who  is  ani 
mated  by  no  kind  sentiment;  who  sees  no  tears  and 
hears  no  sighs.  "Going,  going,  going!"  There  slips 
out  of  the  master's  control  the  nursery  where  in 
fancy  was  cradled,  swathed  in  the  manifolding  of 
love  and  tenderness. 

I  see  in  retrospection  a  beautiful  young  mother, 
with  a  redundance  of  soft  black  hair  as  velvety  as 
the  wing  of  a  raven,  with  her  foot  upon  the  rocker 
smiling  so  sweetly  upon  the  sleepy-eyed  child, who 
arouses  her  little  tired  self  only  long  enough  to 
whisper  dreamily, 

"Sing  please,  again,  mama;  sing  Dix — "  and 
falls  asleep.  And  then  there  is  the  old  conservatory 
just  under  mother's  window,  aromatic  with  memo 
ries.  Mother  called  it  her  "Flowery  kingdom," 
because  every  morning  and  every  evening  she  en 
tered  her  throne-room  there  with  its  dais  of  japon- 
icas  and  camelias;  and  there  were  her  little  maids 
of  honor.in  russet  and  gold  and  carmine  glistening 
in  dewy  diamonds  and  pearls;  and  they  would  thrust 
back  their  silky  night -caps  and  their  little  eyes 
would  be  bright,  as  they  peeped  out  of  tiny  hoods 
of  blue  and  purple,  red  and  white.  Ah,  this  was 
a  royal  realm  of  the  queen  mother,  and  those  little 
star  rayed  princesses  were  so  loyal  in  their  beauty 
and  fragrance.  And  this,  too,  like  a  beautiful  pan- 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  283 

tomime,  was  passing  away,  leaving  only  shadows 
that,  like  some  horrid  dream,  were  darkening  the 
soul.  Oh,  the  charm,  the  aroma  of  the  vine-clad 
conservatory,  dear  mother's  ''Flowery' kingdom" 
and  her  little  royal  maids? 

And  there  is  the  old  drawing-room  with  a  boun 
tiful  bouquet  of  memories.  This  hallowed  chamber 
was  so  often  refreshed  in  the  golden  twilight  by 
mother's  presence,  by  mother's  devotions,  by  moth 
er's  voice  as  it  blended  softly  with  the  harmonies 
of  the  old  harpsichord;  and  it  seems  as  if  there 
were  sweet  chimes  out  of  doors  in  the  stilly  air, 
and  perhaps  the  stars  were  re-enforcing  the  old 
songs  with  whispering  symphonies. 

Then  there  was  the  chamber  just  next  to  mother's, 
embowered  in  columbine  and  the  trailing  arbutus 
where  there  are  treasured  still  old  letters,  books 
and  shoes  and  articles  of  vertu  that  belonged  to 
Walter;just  where  he  placed  them  before  he  enlisted 
in  the  Confederate  cavalry;  before  he  died  andwras 
rudely  buried  without  a  winding  sheet,  under  the 
clods  of  the  Shenandoah  valley,  that  day  that  Stone 
wall  Jackson  unfurled  the  star  barred  banner  in  the 
streets  of  Winchester;  to  rest,  aye, to  rest  until  the 
bugler  of  the  skies  shall  pipe  the  reveille.  Going, 
going,  going.  It  is  the  knell  of  happy  days;  the 
dirge  of  hearts  crushed  by  sacrifices,  sorrows;  it  is 
the  thud  of  the  cold  clay  upon  the  coffin  of  hope; 
the  shroud  that  a  remorseless  destiny  has  flung 
around  our  idols  as  they  fall  one  by  one  from  their 
pedestals.  "Going,  going,  going,''  the  echo  is  thrust 
back  upon  the  bruised  'heart  from  the  white  cold 
stones  out  yonder  under  the  Mulberry.  Perhaps 
Mr.  Baring's  daughters,  who  planted  about  these 
sacred  mounds  the  star  eyed  daisies  and  the  lily 
white  violets,  never  thought  of  the  dance  that 
should  go  on  and  on  to  the  fascination  of  lute  and 
harp  in  the  resounding  halls,  when  the  stranger 


284  THE   BROKEN    SWOED. 

should  occupy  in  his  right  dear  old  Burnbrae.  So 
bewildering  are  the  changes  in  this  life.  It  seems 
to  them  but  yesterday  that  their  lovely  sister,  a 
maiden  of  sixteen  years,  was  laid  away  by  the  side 
of  their  mother,  to  arise  one  day  transfigured  and 
glorified;  and  now  they  were  going  to  tell  the  old 
home  with  its  cherished  memorials  good-bye;  and 
the  old  graveyard  and  mother's  vine  clad  "Flowery 
kingdom"  too.  Ah,  every  footfall  is  like  an 
echo  from  some  deserted  shrine;  and  there  is  no 
kind  voice  to  bid  them  "come  again."  The  little 
twittering  birds  are  piping  the  refrain  of  the  sad, 
sad  song  of  the  auctioneer.  Others  enter  now  with 
the  keys  of  a  lawful  dominion;  they  unlock  the 
dead  chambers,  but  the  fragrance  of  happy  lives  is 
gone  like  the  breath  exhaled  from  the  nostril.  The 
stranger  never  heard  the  old  harpsichord  with  its 
responsive  chords, as  they  were  swept  by  mother's 
lily  white  hands  and  almost  syllabled  her  angel 
voice.  They  were  never  charmed  by  that  sweet  sun 
ny  voice  that  in  so  many  twilights  has  been  singing 
vespers  in  heaven;  they  know  naught  of  the  dead 
white  ashes  that  lay  in  the  unlighted  furnaces  of 
the  poor  souls,  who  are  saying  now  so  tenderly,  so 
tearfully,  to  their  old  home  aud  its  memorials,  its 
idols,  "Good-bye,  good-bye!" 

Judge  Bonham,  the  purchaser,  had  been  highly 
distinguished  m  the  civic  and  military  employ 
ments  of  the  country.  Like  his  old  friend,  Colonel 
Seymour, he  was  with  Lee  at  Spottsylvania,  Gettys 
burg  and  Appommattox,  and  like  his  colleague  in 
the  humiliations  of  the  hour  he  had  declined  to 
"bend  the  pregnant  hinges  of  the  knee  that  thrift 
may  follow  fawning."  To  say  that  under  all  cir 
cumstances  he  maintained  a  perpendicular,  from 
which  there  was  no  swerving  backwards  or  for- 
wardsor  to  the  right,  or  the  left  would  be  a  falsifi 
cation  of  biography.  He,  like  all  other  mortals 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  285 

upon  this  terrene  had  his  passions,  when  his  tem 
per,  despite  curbs  and  restraints,  almost  over-mas 
tered  him.  Judicial  experiences  had  affected  his 
manners,  so  that  he  appeared  austere  and  un 
friendly;  but  he  had  a  kind  heart,  open-handed  to 
a  fault,  true  to  his  convictions,  his  friends, his  God. 
There  were  curves  and  lines  in  the  physical  man 
here  and  there  that  appeared  misplaced  and  mis 
shapen.  His  long  stringy  hair  or  what  there  was 
left  of  it, was  of  a  carrotty  color,  his  nose  was  aqui 
line  with  unnatural  projections,  and  his  mouth 
though  a  little  rigid  in  outline  displayed,  when 
animated,  a  beautiful  set  of  teeth. 

He  was  a  very  scholarly  man;  a  religious  man 
too,  and  entertained  throughout  his  life  strong  Cal- 
vinistic  convictions.  It  was  strange  indeed  that  a 
gentleman  so  exemplary  in  life,  should  sometimes 
run  the  hazard  of  being  suspected  as  a  rogue  by 
those  who  were  ignorant  of  the  infirmity  that  ha 
rassed  him  all  of  his  years.  When  meditating 
upon  this  playfulness  of  nature  lie  would  observe 
confidentially,  that  in  any  community  where  he 
was  not  known  he  would  be  oftener  in  the  State's 
prison  than  without  it. 

"Better  a  Bedouin  in  the  trackless  desert  than  a 
man  who  is  forever  running  the  gauntlet  at  such  a 
risk,"  he  said  embarrassingly. 

There  was  the  gossip  of  the  town  in  which 
he  lived  as  biting  as  the  hoar  frost,  revamped 
and  magnified  to  his  hurt.  When  the  gossip- 
ping  spinsters  heard  that  the  judge  was  re-inforc- 
ing  his  natural  attractiveness  by  the  glossiest  and 
finest  of  raiment,  coming  out  of  the  wardrobe  like 
the  butterfly  out  of  the  chrysalis,  they  hurried  to 
and  fro  among  the  neighbors,  like  magpies  chatter 
ing  and  twittering,  and  they  laid  the  poor  fellow 
under  the  power  of  an  anodyne  upon  the  cold  mar 
ble  slab,  and  with  scalpels  scarified  him  horribly, 


286  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

as  some  women  only  can  do.  "Did  you  ever  !  Did 
you  ever !  "  came  a  refrain  from  puckered  lips. 

"Who  would  have  believed  it !"  exclaimed  Miss 
Jerusha  Timpkins,  as  she  rolled  up  her  dancing 
eyes  and  clasped  her  bony  hands  as  if  in  expostu 
lation. 

"The  idea!  The  idea!''  ejaculated  Miss  Narcissa 
Scoggins. 

"That  man  going  to  marry!"  they  all  exclaimed 
in  chorus.  "My,  my,  my!" 

"And  pray  who  told  you  so?"  asked  Miss  Jemi 
ma  Livesay  with  a  biting  expression. 

"Why,  where  have  you  been,  Jemima,  all  these 
months, you  ain't  heard  it?  It  is  the  town  talk.  Why, 
Amarylla  Hedgepeth  she  heard  it  straight  from  the 
knitting  society.  Squire  Jiggetts  told  old  Deacon 
Bobbettthat  the  judge  had  spoken  to  him  to  marry 
him  to  the  beautiful  Alice  Seymour,  and  Deacon 
Bobbett  told  his  wife, and  Mrs.  Bobbett  told  Sarah 
Marlow,  and  Sarah  Marlow  told  Polly  Ann  Mid- 
gett,  and  Polly  Ann  ups  and  tells  Martha  Gallop, 
and  that's  how  the  news  gets  to  us  strait." 

"Well  sir!"  exclaimed  Miss  Serepta  Hightower, 
forgetting  she  was  speaking  to  old  maids  who  had 
a  loathing  for  any  expression  that  suggested  a  man 
or  the  name  or  the  memory  of  a  man,  except  the 
man  they  were  prodding  and  scarifying.  I  wouldn'  t 
believe  it  if  the  news  came  pine  blank  from  the 
clouds;  that  I  wouldn't!"  and  she  gave  emphasis 
to  the  utterance  by  the  malicious  and  vehement 
stroking  of  one  skinny  fist  against  the  other. 

"Why,  that  man?"  she  exclaimed  with  horror, 
"Why,  he  would  forget  his  marriage  vows  before 
he  ever  made  them.  Why  when  he  led  Malindy 
Hartsease  a  blushing  bride  to  the  altar  thirty  years 
ago;  why, don't  you  all  remember  that  he  sauntered 
out  of  the  church  by  his  lone  lorn  self,  and  the 
preacher  had  to  go  to  his  house  in  the  dead  of  night 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  287 

in  the  rain  and  tell  him  that  he  had  left  his  bride 
in  the  church  crying  her  very  eyeballs  out?" 

"The  monster  !  the  monster  '.''all  exclaimed  and 
skinny  hands  and  skinny  arms  and  skinny  necks 
were  tossing  and  swaying  automatically. 

"Of  course  I  warnt  there  myself  (nor  I  either,  came 
interruptions  from  all  the  spinsters)  but  I  heard  my 
mother, poor  soul, say  that  she  was  right  there  and 
that  she  never  felt  so  sorry  for  a  poor  human  being 
in  all  her  life  as  she  did  for  poor  Malindy;  but  she 
has  gone  to  her  rest  now,  thank  the  Lord!"  and  a 
dozen  handkerchiefs  instantly  gravitated  toward  a 
dozen  hysterical  faces. 

"I  pity  any  poor  soul  that  ties  herself  to  such  a 
man  as  that  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart,"  said 
Miss  Anastasia  Perkins  in  great  sympathy.  "Why 
she  won't  know  whether  she  is  married  or  not, 
neither  will  he;  just  as  likely  as  not  he  will  go- 
courting  somebody  else  with  his  poor  wife  a  sitting 
back  in  the  chimney  corner  in  the  ashes." 

"And  there  is  another  pint  I  haint  ever  said  any 
thing  about,  but  I  think  it  ought  to  be  known  here 
betwixt  ourselves  and  not  to  go  any  further"  said, 
Miss  Martha  Gallop  "but  the  way  he  treated  his 
poor  wife  Malindy  was  a  purified  scandal.  Now  I 
aint  a  telling  you  this  as  coming  from  me,  for  the 
good  Lord  knows  when  that  thing  happened,! 
was  a  little  teensy  weensy  tot,  (with  a  coquettish 
toss  of  her  antique  head)  but  old  aunt  Mehetibel 
Parsley  knows  all  about  it,  and  I've  heard  her  say 
over  and  over  again  that  when  Judge  Bonham  and 
Malindy  would  be  riding  in  their  carriage  to  meet 
ing  that  he  would  forget  where  he  was  going  and 
would  fetch  up  right  against  the  poor  house  three 
miles  or  more  in  the  other  direction, and  that  poor 
mournful  woman  would  be  a  sitting  back  in  the 
carriage  with  eyes  as  red  as  a  gander's, and  a  look- 


288  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

ing  pine  plant  like  she  was  coming  from  a  fune 
ral." 

"Oh  the  cruel,  cruel  monster !"  came  another  re 
frain, and  skinny  fists  would  double  up  and  strike 
against  ancient  knees  like  resounding  boards,  and 
the  spinsters  would  all  heave  great,  tumultous  sighs, 
and  corkscrew  curls, like  spiral  springs,  would  dance 
up  and  down  mechanically  upon  their  well  oiled 
pivots. 

Judge  Bonham  was  quite  nervously  gravitating 
toward  a  situation  that  requird  great  force  of 
character;  a  situation  always  extra  hazardous  and 
demanding  the  exercise  of  every  resource. 

This  phlegmatic  man  was  running  the  biblical 
parallel,  dreaming  dreams  and  seeing  visions;  not 
the  distorted  creations  of  the  night-mare,  but  beau 
tiful  little  crayons  of  love, swinging  like  tiny  acro 
bats  from  blue  ribbons  on  the  walls,  and  descend 
ing  like  vagrant  sunbeams  upon  the  vermillion  car 
pet;  composite  faces,  too,  with  bright  golden  hair 
and  brighter  blue  eyes. 

The  old  gentleman  sat  back  in  his  easy  chair, 
thinking  of  the  captivating  beauty  over  at  Ingle- 
side,  and  there  were  ecstatic  little  chimes  ringing 
in  his  ears,  and  their  chorus  always  was  this, 

"I  don't  care  what  the  gossips  say, 
I  shall  marry  some  fair  day." 

"But  am  I  really  in  love?"  asked  he.  It  was  a 
perplexing  question  to  a  mind  unusually  acute  and 
active  in  the  powers  of  analysis  and  synthesis;  to 
a  mind  that  could  grasp,  multiply  and  divide  re 
mainders,  particular  estates  and  reversions  in  all 
their  infiniteness.  And  the  old  man  began  to  pon 
der  seriously  upon  the  situation. 

Something  quite  unusual  and  quite  unnatural 
was  tinkering  upon  the  frayed  out  heart  strings  of 
the  old  judge,  until  the  learned  man  quite  bewil- 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  289 

dered  found  himself  addressing  his  reflected  image 
in  the  mirror. 

"Quite  handsome,  upon  my  honor,  Mr.  Livy 
Bonham,"  he  exclaimed,  "and  she  will  say  so,  too, 
when  she  see's  her  beautiful  image  in  my  soft 
blue  eyes;  for  they  will  speak  to  her  in  love  and 
she  will  understand." 

He  turned  from  the  mirror  singing  sweetly, 

"And  bright  blue  was  her  ee, 

And  for  bonnie  Annie  Laurie 
I'll  lay  me  doon  and  dee." 

As  he  passed  out  of  the  door  with  his  brand  new 
beaver  hat  canted  to  the  right  side  of  his  head  and 
twirling  his  gold -headed  cane  in  his  hand,  he  said 
to  his  old  cook, 

"Remember,  Harriet,  to  come  to  me  when  I  re 
turn,  as  I  shall  have  orders  for  a  general  cleaning 
of  the  house  by  and  by,  and  tell  Lije  to  put  the 
carriage  in  apple-pie  order." 

"I  wonder  what  mars  judge  do  mean?"  asked 
the  simple  negro  as  she  turned  away,  "Hit  pears 
lak  his  mind  is  a  purified  a  wonderin;  noboddy 
haint  rid  in  dat  kerrige  since  ole  missis  died,  und 
it  do  seem  lak  a  skandle  to  rub  ole  missis'  tracks 
out  dis  late  day.  Ef  Mars  Livy  is  agwine  to  get  mar 
ried  he  orter  dun  und  dun  it  soon  arter  old  missis 
died,  d^ii  dere  wudn'tben  no  skandle  in  de  Ian  lak 
dere  is  agwine  to  be  now.  Folkses  high  und  low 
is  ergwine  to  look  skornful,wid  dere  fingers  pinted 
at  de  gal,  und  ax  deyselves  how  cum  she  jined  her 
self  to  ole  marser,  wid  wun  foot  in  de  grave,  jes 
to  suck  sorrer  arter  he  is  dun  und  gon." 

The  man  of  fifty-five  years  was  met  at  the  door 
of  Ingleside  by  the  faithful  old  butler,  who  bowed 
almost  to  the  floor  as  he  greeted  the  judge,  who, 
placing  his  hat  into  Ned's  hands  asked  suspicious 
ly  if  his  young  mistress  were  at  home  ? 
19 


290  THE   BROKEN    SWORD. 

'•Deed  she  is,  mars  jedge  "  exclaimed  Ned  obse 
quiously. 

"Miss  Alice  is  always  at  home  to  er  yung  gem- 
man  lak  you  is  sar.  Und  she  is  diked  monstrous, 
mars  jedge,  in  lilacks  und  princess  feddersund  jon 
quils,  jes  lak  she  cum  outen  de  observatory,  und  she 
is  speckin  cumpany  dis  werry  minit,  und  I  spek 
yu  knose  who  dat  is  sar,''  said  the  old  negro  as  he 
dropped  his  voice  almost  to  a  whisper,  laughing 
and  smirking  the  while. 

"Angelic  creature  !"  exclaimed  the  old  man 
aside,  as  he  began  to  feel  a  creepiness  up  and  down 
his  back  like  great  caterpillars  upon  the  march. 
"What  infinite  comprehension  !"  he  exclaimed 
again  as  he  seemed  to  jerk  spasmodically;  "What 
an  affectionate  appreciation  !  Doubtless  expecting 
me  as  if  my  arrival  had  been  telegraphed  from  Burn- 
brae." 

"Mars  jedge,"  asked  Ned  "dus  you  ame  dis 
wisit  for  yung  missis  or  ole  marser?" 

"Undoubtedly,  Ned,  this  visit  is  for  your  mis 
tress,"  said  the  jndge  as  he  rubbed  his  hands  with 
energy.  "When  my  plans  are  arranged  I  will  in 
terview  your  marster — perhaps  in  the  very  near 
future." 

"Eggzackly,  yung  marser,"  replied  Ned  as  he 
twirled  the  judge' s  new  beaver  in  his  hand.  '  'Mout 
I  mak  jes  wun  kurreckshun,  sar,  fore  yu  gits  too 
fur?"  asked  Ned. 

"Why,  certainly;  what  is  it  Ned?" 

The  old  negro  placed  his  hands  to  his  lips  as  if 
to  keep  back  the  sound  of  his  own  voice  and  asked 
in  a  whisper,  while  a  smile  played  around  the 
corners  of  his  mouth,  "Is  you  sho  yus  all  rite, 
boss?" 

"Why  certainly,"  the  judge  replied  with  a  de 
gree  of  impatience  "Do  you  suppose  I  have  come 
out  of  the  low  grounds  ?" 


THE   BROKEN    SWORD.  291 

"Lans  saks,  yung  marser,  dis  ole  nigger  don't 
ames  to  inturrup  a  gemman  of  your  sability. 
But  boss  yu  dun  und  flung  yo  oberkote  on  de  rackr 
duz  yu  ame  to  go  into  the  parlor  whar  yung  missis 
is  wid  all  her  hallibooloos  ur  dout  ary  weskote  ur 
koller  udder  ?"  and  the  old  negro  turned  away  his 
head  and  tittered,  while  the  judge  with  the  embar 
rassment  of  a  suspected  felon  was  looking  and  feel 
ing  for  the  missing  garments  ;  and  he  turned  his 
ashen  face  with  a  hard  grimace  to  the  old  negro  as 
if  he  had  been  the  cause  of  this  particular  act  of 
absent-mindedness  and  said  angrily. 

"Ned  if  you  ever  mention  this  matter  to  man  or 
beast  your  life  shall  pay  the  forfeit." 

"Deed  I  won't,  mars  jedge,  dat  I  won't,  kase  dat 
niout  fling  de  fat  in  de  farr." 

"What  shall  I  do,  Ned  'C  asked  the  judge  confi 
dentially. 

"Hit  pears  lak  dat  de  onliess  fing  yu  can  do  now 
is  to  slip  outen  dis  do  rite  easy  fore  ole  Jube  sees 
yu  und  wait  out  in  de  piazzy  twell  I  fetch  wun  of 
mars  Jon's  weskotes  und  collars,  und  den  yu  kin 
march  in  sar  as  biggerty  as  when  yu  was  de  jedge 
in  de  kote." 

"No,  I  will  go  back  home;  and  shall  I  come  again* 
Ned?" 

"Sartainly  mars  jedge,  sartainly  sar,"  said  Ned,, 
bowing  and  scraping.  "Ef  you  seed  all  dat  finery 
Miss  Alice  has  got  strowed  around  her  neck  und 
all  dem  white  und  pink  und  yellow  jonquills  und 
sweetbetsies  und  snowballs  ujid  princess  feddera 
on  top  of  her  hed,  und  all  dun  und  dun  for  yu  mars 
jedge,  dere  wudn'tbe  but  seben  tater  ridges  twixt 
dis  grate  house  und  yourn;  yu'd  be  pearter  dan 
any  rabbit  in  de  mashes  agwine  und  a  cummin." 

The  foolish  widower  passed  out  of  the  door  and 
out  of  the  gate  singing  to  himself, 


292  THE    BKOKEX    SWORD. 

'•Her  brow  Is  like  the  snowdrift, 
Her  throat  is  like  the  swan." 

His  feelings  toward  the  peerless  beauty  were  stoutly 
reinforced  by  the  observation  of  the  negro  "und  all 
dun  und  dun  for  yu  mars  jedge."  Clarissa  ever 
and  always  upon  the  lookout  in  these  suspicious 
times, hearing  only  snatches  of  the  conversation  in 
the  hall  between  the  judge  and  her  husband  called 
out  imperiously, 

"Ned  cum  to  de  do  er  minit,"  Ned  in  his  slouchy 
way,  giggling  like  an  idiot,  advanced  toward  Clar 
issa. 

"Whot  ailed  dat  white  man  in  dem  fine  cloes  und 
stove-pipe  hat  agwine  outen  de  gate?"  and  Ned 
only  giggled  the  more. 

"Don't  yu  heer  me  axing  you  Ned?"  stormed 
Clarissa. 

Ned  still  giggling  with  both  hands  to  his  black 
mouth  replied  distrustfully. 

"I  gin  mars  jedge  my  solum  wurd  dat  I  wudn't 
woice  dat  diffikilt  twixt  me  und  him-  to  man  nur 
cattle  beastis  nudder." 

"Woice  what  diffikilt  Ned?"  asked  Clarissa  in 
her  provoking  way.  "You  knows  I  haint  no  man 
nur  cattle  beastis  nudder;  whot  maks  yu  so  tanti- 
lizin  ?  Ef  you  haint  agwine  to  tell  me  I'm  agwine  rite 
strate  to  Miss  Alice;  I  knows  she  will  mak  yu  tell 
her."  Ned  buried  his  face  in  both  hands  and 
then  peeping  through  his  fingers  sheepishly  ob 
served, 

"Now  Clarsy  you  knows  you  is  monstrous 
handy  noratin  ebery  blessed  fing  you  heers  to  tuth- 
er  fokses;  now  ef  I  ups  und  tells  yu,und  it  gits  to 
mars  jedge' s  ears,  whose  agwine  to  stand  twixt  me 
und  him  ?  Tell  me  dat." 

"I'm  agwine  to  stan  betwixt  yu  und  de  jedge, 
dats  who,"  replied  Clarissa  consequentially. 

"Oh  Lordy  !    Yu  ergwine   to  stan  twixt  me  und 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  293 

Mm,"  interrogated  old  Ned  contemptuously  "Jes 
as  well  have  ole  Jube  er  stanin  twixt  me  und  de 
jedge  eliery  bit  und  grane." 

Clarissa  thought  for  a  moment  and  replied  with 
infinite  satisfaction. 

"Miss  Alice  is  ergwine  ter  stan  twixt  yu  und 
de  jedge,  dats  who." 

"Dat  mout  do,"  said  Ned,  "und  ef  de  jedge  axes 
me  about  itl'm  agwine  to  send  him  rite  strate  to  Miss 
Alice,  und  let  demtwofite  it  out  twixt  dey  selves," 
and  Ned  with  great  circumstantiality  placed  Clar 
issa  in  possession  of  the  facts  in  the  case. 

"Fo  de  King  !"  exclaimed  Clarissa  after  Ned  had 
concluded.  "I'm  ergwine  rite  strate  und  tell  Miss 
Alice." 

"Und  den  dars  is  gwine  to  be  a  rumpus  in  dis 
grate  house,"  said  Ned  with  disgust  as  Clarissa 
shuffled  down  the  hall  to  her  young  mistress's 
chamber. 

Nothing  baffled  by  his  misadventure,  and  reali/- 
ing  that  faintheart  ne'er  won  fair  lady,  the  judge 
reappeared  at  the  hall  door  of  Ingleside  with  his 
beaver  hat  canted  on  the  other  side  of  his  head, 
and  rang  the  door  bell  quite  tentatively,  as  he 
felt  that  Ned  would  watch  for  his  coming,  and 
would  admit  him  without  knocking. 

"Now  Ned,"  the  judge  remarked, as  he  passed  his 
beaver  to  the  old  negro,  "examine  me  from  head  to 
foot  and  tell  me  if  I'm  all  right."     Ned  did  as  he 
was  commanded  in  great  detail  of  inspection  and 
observed, 

"Yes  sar,dat  yu  is,  mars  jedge,  I  neber  seed  such 
a  portly  yung  man  in  all  my  days  sar.  Pend  up 
on  it  boss,  Miss  Alice  is  ergwine  to  bite  at  the  hook 
fore  yu  flings  out  de  bate.  Ef  I  mout  tell  yu  de 
truf  you  looks  lak  yu  was  a  stepping  intone  mar- 
rage  sallymony  dis  werry  minit  und  I  don't  speck 
nofin  else  but  dem  yallow  und  white  snowballs  und 


294  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

sweet  betsies  is  ergwine  to  drap  rite  down  und  per 
ish  on  yung  misses  hed  when  yu  put  your  little 
foot  in  dat  dar  parlor;"  and  the  vain  old  man  now 
fully  reassured,  followed  the  old  butler  into 
the  parlor,  the  latter  remarking  in  a  highly  patron 
izing  way. 

"Now,  mars  jedge,  I'm  ergwine  to  set  yu  down  in 
de  bridegroom's  cheer,  kase  I  knows  hit  is  ergwine 
to  be  yourn  fore  dis  yeer  is  dun  und  gon,  und 
den  I'm  ergwine  to  be  yourn  too,"  he  laughingly 
continued.  "Kase  I  belongs  to  yung  missis  und 
yung  missis  belongs  to  de  jedge.  Ha,  ha,  ha!" 

After  Ned  had  retired  to  the  hall  the  vain  old 
man,  after  looking  all  around  him,  stealthily  arose 
from  his  seat  and  surveyed  his  person  in  an  elabor 
ate  mirror  over  the  mantle  piece,  arranging  his  hair, 
beard,  and  eyebrows  in  every  detail  of  evenness  and 
position, and  was  thus  assaulted  by  the  bewitching 
beauty  of  Ingleside  without  a  picket  or  skirmish 
line,  and  with  his  back  to  the  conqueror  of  hearts. 
The  dilemma  was  excessively  embarrassing  and  as 
he  turned  to  speak  to  the  queenly  beauty  he  be 
gan  to  stammer  and  quite  unconsciously  to  make 
.apologies. 

"I  called  this  morning,  madam,"  he  began,  "er, 
er,  er,  to  inquire  after  the  health  of  your  father. 
You  don't  know  er,  er,  er,  how  solicitous  I  have 
.been  about  him  of  late.  How  is  he  this  morning?" 

"He  is  very  much  better,  I  thank  you,  sir,"  re 
plied  Alice  with  an  effort  at  self  control,  "and  if 
you  will  excuse  me  I  will  inform  him  that  you 
.are  here." 

"I  beg  you  will  er,  er,  er" — stammered  the  judge 
with  an  uncontrollable  energy. 

"Oh,  I  am  sure  it  will  do  him  so  much  good  to 
see  you,"  interrupted  Alice,as  she  gracefully  bow 
ed  herself  out  of  the  room,  leaving  the  bewildered 
lover  to  destroy  with  huge  battering  rams  the  beau- 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  295 

tiful  castle  which  his  ardent  fancy  and  old  Ned's 
sycophancy  had  erected. 

"In  olden  times,"  soliloquized  the  judge,  as  he 
brought  his  clenched  hand  with  force  upon  his 
knee,  "kings  alone  had  their  fools;  and  here  I  am 
playing  the  miserable  fool  in  the  presence  of  an 
unsophisticated  maid.  Father  indeed  !  Why  did  I 
ask  about  her  father,  blasted  idiot  that  I  am?" 

The  old  judge  was  still  scourging  himself  with 
the  thongs  of  emphatic  rebuke,  when  to  his  sur 
prise  another  judge  entered  the  parlor  with  the 
beautiful  Alice  upon  his  arm. 

Colonel  Seymour  and  the  two  judges  had  met 
before  in  the  court  room,  and  were  now  enjoying 
themselves  in  an  old-fashioned  way  in  the  elabor 
ate  parlor  of  the  old  mansion. 

Judge  Bonham  was  very  delicate  and  refined  in 
his  compliments  of  his  friend  Judge  Livingstone, 
who  in  the  niceties  of  the  law  "could  divide  a  hair 
'twixt  the  north  and  north-west  side."  He  was  the 
judge  who  had  extracted  the  poison  sacs  from  the 
fangs  of  reconstruction;  the  judge  who  had  stam 
peded  the  vile  and  vicious  hordes  that  thronged 
and  polluted  the  temple  of  justice.  As  Judge  Bon- 
ham  looked  at  the  man,  he  felt  that  the  entreaty 
of  the  South  had  been  answered  by  the  Power  that 
rules  in  heaven  and  earth. 

'•God  give  us  men;  a  Uoae  like  this  demands 

Great  minds,  strong  hearts,  true  faith  and  willing  hands; 

Men  whom  the  luat  of  office  cannot  buy, 

Men  who  have  honor  and  will  not  lie.'' 

These  gentlemen  had  scarcely  begun  to  sap  the 
foundations  of  the  superstructure  of  reconstruc 
tion,  when  dinner  was  announced  by  the  beautiful 
hostess,  who  stood  in  the  door,  as  judge  Bonham 
declared,  encircled  in  a  cincture  of  angelic  grace. 
It  was  a  bountiful  meal;  there  were  cheer  and 


296  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

laughter  and  polite  jest  at  the  board,  and  as  these 
distinguished  gentlemen  were  bowing  themselves 
out  of  the  dining  room,  Judge  Bonham  was  observ 
ed  by  Clarissa  to  take  a  napkin  ring  from  his 
plate  and  put  it  in  his  pocket;  with  rolled  up  eyes 
and  wide  open  mouth,  Clarissa  looked  like  a  black 
idol  in  a  Chinese  temple.  The  guests  again  assem 
bled  in  the  library  and  Alice  busied  herself  in 
arranging  the  table  for  tea. 

"What  sorter  man  is  dat  tother  jedge  Miss 
Alice?"  asked  Clarissa  in  an  authoritative  kind  of 
a  way.  I  don't  mean  dat  shiny-eyed  jedge,  but  dat 
man  dat  has  got  dem  grate  big  warts  on  his  nose  ; 
Ef  dat  ar  jedge  cum  to  dis  grate  house  many  mo 
times  ole  missis  silver  is  agwine  to  be  all  gone. 
She  tole  me  to  look  arter  her  plunder.  I  don't 
ame  to  sass  dat  ar  jedge  Miss  Alice,  but  de  fust 
time  I  ketches  him  to  hissef  I'm  ergwine  to  ax  him 
please  turn  dem  dere  pockets  rong  side  outtards 
undlemme'see  what  he  has  got  stowed  erway  in 
dere.  Dem  kote  skeerts  haint  er  bulgin  out  datter- 
way  fur  nuffin.  Twixt  dat  secesh  man  und  de 
scaly horgs,  wun  is  jamby  ez  big  er  fellnm  ez  de 
tuther;  he  ergwine  erbout  punishin  tuther  fokses 
for  gwine  rong,  und  he,  yu  mout  say,  is  er  con- 
wick  hissef.  I  nebber  seed  wot  yu  mout  call  a  high 
quality  white  pusson  steal  yo  fings  rite  fore  yo 
eyes  in  de  broad  open  daylight  lak  dat." 

"You  must  not  talk  that  way  about  Judge  Bon- 
ham, Clarissa,"  rejoined  Alice  with  irritation.  "lam 
ashamed  of  you!  What  would  father  say  if  he  were 
to  hear  you  accuse  his  guest  of  stealing!"  Alice 
continued  rebukingly. 

"Well,  Miss  Alice,"  said  Clarissa  apologetically, 
"It  mout  be  dat  I  spoke  too  brash;  seems  lak  do  ef 
he  was  a  sho  nun3  jedge  he  orter  have  mo  manners 
dan  agwine  erbout  shoolikin  und  pilferin  lak  dat; 
speks  ef  dat  white  man  was  sarched  yu  mout  find 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  297 

udder  wallybles  belonging  to  dis  grate  house  in  his 
hine  pockets  dis  werry  minit;  yu  dun  und  heerdme 
say  dem  dar  kote  skeerts  aint  a  bulging  out  dat  dar 
way  fur  nuffin."  Clarissa  with  malice  prepense 
was  arraigning  the  judge  upon  a  cruel  indictment, 
a  prejudiced  prosecution  and  a  predetermined  ver 
dict  evidently.  There  was  but  one  plea  that  could 
avail  the  judge  if  Clarissa  were  polled  as  the  jury, 
and  that  would  require  the  immediate  restitution 
of  the  stolen  property,  and  an  unconditional  with 
drawal  from  old  marser's  great  house;  or  to  punc 
tuate  the  verdict  in  Clarissa's  emphatic  way, 

"Don't  yu  never  set  yo  foot  in  dis  heer  grate 
house  no  mo,  epseps  yu  want  ole  Jube  to  wour  yu 
up  with  wun  rnoufful,  ef  dem  is  all  de  manners  yu 
got." 

'•'Permit  me  to  ask  you  sir,"  observed  Judge  Bon- 
ham  to  Judge  Livingstone,  "if  the  conditions  pre 
vailing  in  the  South  are  not  entirely  unlike  those 
that  obtain  in  the  North  ?" 

"Yes,  indeed,"  replied  Judge  Livingstone.  "It 
would  be  difficult  to  realize  that  we  live  under  the 
same  Federal  government.  Society  in  this  country 
seems  to  be  thoroughly  disorganized.  I  can  imag 
ine  that  some  great  upheaval  of  nature  has  widely 
separated  the  South  from  the  North." 

4 'I  presume, ' '  said  Judge  Bonham,  '  'that  you  have 
seen  southern  character  in  all  of  its  transforma 
tions  in  your  courts  ?" 

"Yes  sir,  and  very  frequently  in  its  most  abhor 
rent  and  disgusting  forms.  There  is  such  a  variety 
of  indictable  frauds  and  many  of  them  ^rowing  out 
of  the  rudimentary  education  of  the  negroes,  that 
this  fact,  in  my  opinion,  is  the  most  cogent  argu 
ment  against  their  education." 

"I  am  very  decidedly  of  that  opinion,"  replied 
Judge  Bonham  with  emphasis.  "I  believe  if  it  were 
not  for  the  criminal  class  of  young  negroes  there 


"298  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

would  be  very  few  indictments  in  the  courts;  but 
as  the  matter  stands  they  are  congested  to  that  ex-, 
tent  that  our  jails  are  always  over  crowded  and  so 
-are  our  dockets." 

"Do  you  know,  sir,"  replied  Judge  Livingstone, 
"that  there  is  a  side  to  this  ever -shifting  panorama 
that  challenges  my  profoundest  sympathy?  To 
give  you  an  illustration:  A  few  days  ago,  in  this 
-county  of  F.,  I  saw  in  the  dock  a  decayed  old  ne 
gro,  who  staggered  into  the  bar  from  sheer  exhaus 
tion.  He  was  dying  piece-meal  from  starvation. 
He  was  indicted  for  the  larceny  of  a  peck  of  sweet 
potatoes.  The  prosecuting  witness  was  a  white 
man  of  about  forty  years  of  age,  and  was  what  is 
provincially  known  as  a  scalawag.  I  do  not  exag 
gerate  very  grossly  when  I  say  that  a  blacksmith 
would  have  hammered  a  plowshare  out  of  his  hard 
face.  The  old  negro  was  convicted;  he  had  no 
substantial  defence.  I  said  to  him,  I  want  you  to 
tell  me  why  you  took  the  potatoes.  The  poor  old 
negro  leaned  heavily  with  both  hands  upon  his 
staff,  his  unshorn  white  locks  giving  him  the  ap 
pearance  of  a  'sheik  of  the  desert,'  and  raising  his 
harrowed  face,  that  was  wet  with  tears,  trembling 
ly  addressed  the  court  as  he  grasped  the  railing 
for  support,  'Mars  Jedge,  I  nab  neber  nied  dis 
sciisashun,  und  I  tole  de  boss  man  ef  he  wudn't 
sen  me  to  de  jail  I  wud  wurK  hit  out  ef  hit.  tuck 
seben  yurs.  I  libs  erway  ober  yiinder  cross  de 
mash.  Dar  is  my  olemarser  a  sertin  dar.  He  noes 
I'm  er  tellin  yu  de  naked  truf,  und  God  in  hebben 
noes  I  wudn't  tell  yu  nary  lie.  Dar  is  foteen 
moufs  in  my  fambly  er  cryin  fer  wittles  ebery  day 
de  good  Lawd  sends;  uud  Malindy,  dat's  my  dor 
ter,  haint  struck  a  lick  o'  wurk  fur  mo  dan  er  hole 
yur;  und  dar's  my  gro wed-up  son,  dat's  Joe,  he 
.got  drounded  in  de  crick  nigh  unto  er  month  ago; 
und  dar's  my  po  wife,  dat's  Mirny,  she  tuck  sick 


THE   BROKEN    SWORD.  299 

und  died  when  she  heerd  dat  Joe  had  drounded 
hissef,  und  nobody  in  de  wurrel  ter  git  ary  mouf- 
fiil  o'  wittles  epsep  me;  und  1  was  so  hongry,  und 
de  chillun  wuz  er  cryin  twell  I  wuz  moest  stracted; 
und  I  had  a  grate  big  bone  fellyun  on  dis  heer 
han'— dar  tis,  rite  dar— so  I  cudn't  wurk,  und  I 
went  to  de  boss  man,  standin  rite  dar  fo  yo  eyes, 
und  axed  him  f er  two  er  free  little  stringy  taters;und 
he  cussed  me  und  driv  me  er  way,  und  called  me 
er  ole  free  issu  dimmycrat  nigger;  und  my  ole  mar 
ser  libed  so  fur  erway  I  cudn't  git  nary  wurd  to 
him;  und  den,  ez  I  wuz  ergwine  outen  de  planta- 
shun,  I  seed  two  er  free  little  stringy  taters,  mout 
be  fo  taters,  er  lyin  on  de  tip  eend  o'  de  ridge  in 
de  brilin  sun  arter  de  taters  had  bin  dug  outen  de 
patch,  und  I  didn't  fink  it  wuz  no  harm  to  nobody, 
und  I  tuck  um  und  toted  um  home  in  my  pocket 
ter  de  po  little  parishin  yunguns,  und — ' 

"Here  the  old  negro  broke  down  and  cried  as  if 
his  heart  would  break,  and  then  wiping  his  eyes 
with  his  ragged  coat  sleeve,  he  continued, 

'Und  den  dey  tuck  me  und  put  me  in  de  jale; 
und  I  axed  de  high  shurriff  ter  please  git  wurd  ter 
ole  marser  whar  I  wuz  karserated,  und  he  neber 
sont  no  wurd  ter  ole  marser.  Marser  Jedge,  I'm  er 
gwine  on  eighty-free  yurs  ole,  und  ef  I  libs  ter  see 
nex  Juvember,  ef  I  don't  make  no  mistake  I'll  be 
gwine  in  er  hundred.  I  aint  neber  been  kotched 
in  no  scrapes  befo  in  my  born  days,  has  I  ole  mar 
ser?'  Then  turning  to  a  white-haired  man  on  the 
jury,  'Nary  body,  white  er  cullud,  hab  eber  crook 
ed  de  finger  at  enyfing  I  eber  dun  rong,  und  I'm 
too  ole  und  crazyfied  to  be  sont  to  de  penitenshury, 
und  fur  de  Lawd's  sake,  Mars  Jedge,  please  don't 
sen  me  dar,  ef  yu  duz  my  po  little  yunguns  will 
parish  ter  def,  und  I  axes  all  yu  white  gemmen  on 
dat  jurrer  ter  pray  fur  me,  und  de  jedge  too.' 
"The  court  and  jury  were  in  tears  when  this  elo- 


300  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

quent  plea  was  concluded,  and  the  poor  old  negro, 
shaking  from  head  to  foot,  sank  back  into  his  seat, 
bowed  his  white  head  upon  his  staff  and  covered 
his  black  face  with  his  old  hat.  There  was  a  pain 
ful  pause  in  the  court  room;  handkerchiefs  were 
freely  displayed  here  and  there,  and  ominous 
sounds,  as  if  there  was  weeping,  was  heard  in  the 
great  press  of  people." 

"What  is  your  name?"  asked  the  judge,  ad 
dressing  the  white-haired  juror  in  the  box  to  whom 
the  old  negro  had  appealed  as  his  master. 

"Grissom,"  modestly  replied  the  man. 

"Do  you  know  the  character  of  this  old  negro?" 
asked  the  judge  ? 

"Very  good,  very  good  sir,"  the  juror  excited 
ly  repeated,  "trustworthy  and  truthful  under  all 
circumstances  sir." 

After  a  moments  reflection  the  judge  said  to  the 
old  negro,  "Stand  up  old  man."  The  negro  reel 
ing  from  weekness  raised  his  bo  wed,  palsied  frame, 
and  repeated  after  the  judge  the  formula  used  in 
recognizances  as  follows  substantially. 

"I  duz  hereby  nowledg  dat  I  is  debted  to  de 
State  of  Norf  Caliny  in  de  sum  ob  ten  millun  dol 
lars  to  be  leveled  pun  my  goods  und  cattle,  lans 
turnements  und  harry  dettyments  to  be  woid  on 
kondishun  dat  I  maks  my  pussonel  pearance  fo  de 
jedge  of  dis  kote  next  Christmas  und  bide  by  de 
jedgement  of  dis  kote." 

"Now  old  negro, "said  the  judge  sympathetically, 
"You  can  go  home  " 

"Tank  yer  mars  jedge,"  he  exclaimed  as  he  ad 
vanced  to  grasp  the  judge's  hand. 

"May  the  good  Lord  in  heaben  allus  be  rite  by 
your  side  when  yu  gibs  jedgement."  Taking  up 
his  old  hat  he  bowed  to  the  gentlemen  of  the  jury 
with  the  observation, 

"May  nun  of  you  white  gemman  ever  git  kotch- 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  301 

ed  in  such  a  scrape  as  dis,  epseps  yu  has  dis  heer 
jedge  to  stand  twixt  yu  und  de  gallus."  He  turned 
again  to  the  judge  with  a  smile  that  played  like 
sheet  lightning  over  his  haggard  face  and  in 
quired  humbly. 

"Mars  Jedge,  duz  yu  specks  me  to  pay  dat  passel 
of  munny  to  de  state  nex  Krismas  too?" 

At  the  conclusion  of  this  narrative  our  mutual 
friend  Judge  Bonham  arose  to  takt  his  leave,  re 
marking  as  he  did  so  "that  his  visit  should  be  long 
remembered,  that  his  distinguished  friends  were  so 
agreeable;  and  grasping  the  hand  of  the  judge  he 
congratulated  him  and  the  country  that  "a  Daniel 
had  come  to  judgment.  '  When  the  absent-minded 
gentleman  arrived  home,  his  servant  Lije  discover 
ed  that  the  judge's  head  down  to  his  ears  was  im 
mersed  in  a  light  derby  hat,  and  he  ventured  to  ask, 

"Mars  Jedge,  what  you  agwine  to  do  wid  dat  dar 
hat?  To  be  sho  you  didn't  swop  your  brand  new 
slick  beaver  off  for  dat  dar  camp  kittle?" 

The  judge  in  his  chagrin  saw  that  he  had  carried 
away  Judge  Livingstone's  derby  hat  and  had  left 
his  beaver  in  its  place.  And  he  said  sharply  to 


"Go  through  all  of  my  pockets  and  see  if  I  have 
stolen  any  of  the  property  of  Colonel  Seymour.  I 
dare  not  trust  myself  to  visit  a  neighbor  that  I 
am  not  liable  to  be  sent  to  the  penitentiary."  The 
negro  Lije  exploiting  all  suspected  places  exhibit 
ed  to  the  judge  a  table  ring  and  napkin,  that  by 
some  inexplicable  means  had  been  transferred  to 
his  pocket. 

"Gracious  heavens  !"  the  humiliated  man  ex 
claimed,  "Larceny  both  grand  and  petit  by  the 
eternal  !  Felony  without  benefit  of  clergy!  Return 
those  stolen  articles  at  once,  you  black  scamp, 
where  they  belong,  and  present  my  compliments  to 
Colonel  Seymour,  and  tell  him  they  got  into  the 


302  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

possession  of  Judge  Bonham  without  his  knowl 
edge  and  against  his  consent  and  bring  back  my 
beaver  and  cane.  Stop!  stop!"  he  exclaimed  ex 
citedly,  "What  is  this?"  drawing  from  his  vest 
pocket  a  small  miniature  of  Alice  that  he  had  seen 
upon  the  parlor  mantel.  "Great  Jerusalem!"  he 
fairly  shrieked,  "condemned  beyond  the  hope  of 
pardon." 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  30$ 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 


THE    DIPPING    OF    THE    RED    STARS. 

"Will  you  oblige  me  at  the  piano,  Miss  Sey 
mour?"  Judge  Livingstone  asked,  as  they  were- 
seated  in  the  parlor  at  Ingleside  after  the  retire 
ment  of  Judge  Bonham. 

With  a  show  of  embarrassment  Alice  consented 
as  the  judge  escorted  her  to  the  instrument. 

"Shall  I  play  your  favorite?"  she  asked  a  little- 
coquettishly. 

"Ah  no;  not  mine,  but  yours,  I  beg,  and  please- 
accompany  the  chords  with  your  own  sweet  voice, 
will  you  not?" 

Alice,  thrumming  the  piano  in  a  perfunctory 
way,  lifted  her  eyes  to  her  guest  as  she  replied 
smilingly, 

"I  have  no  favorite,  sir,  indeed  I  have  not.  Shall 
I  play  yours?" 

"Well,  yes;  you  may  if  you  will  not  laugh  at 
my  old-fashioned  fancy.  I  do  not  mind  telling 
you  that  one  of  my  favorites  is,  'Then  You'll  Re 
member  Me.'  I  suspect  that  there  are  selections 
from  Beethoven,  Mozart  and  Chopin  that  are  inex 
pressibly  grand,  but  for  soulful  melody  there  is. 
nothing  like  the  sweet,  dear  old  song." 

Alice  threw  her  spirit  into  the  old  song,  and  with 
eyes  glistening  through  her  tears,  remarked  sadly, 
"This  old  melody  is  very  dear  to  me,  very,  very 
dear." 

"I  should  imagine  so,"  replied  the  judge,  "and 
I  know  if  it  could  syllable  its  love  it  would  tell 
you  of  its  passion  for  you.  I  think  it  has  taken 


304  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

possession  of  your  whole  heart,  Miss  Seymour," 
continued  the  high  official  with  animation. 

To  this  tentative  kind  of  inquiry  Alice  did  not 
reply,  but  looked  blushingly  into  the  judge's 
earnest  face  and  sweetly  laughed,  like  the  artless 
girl  she  was. 

The  golden  hours  were  fast  slipping  away,  and 
the  little  goldsmith  was  hammering,  too,  at  the 
tiny  arrows. 

"I  fear  I  have  afflicted  you  very  cruelly,  my 
sweet  friend,"  the  judge  observed  after  a  pause,  as 
he  noted  that  the  hour  hand  of  the  ivory  time 
piece  upon  the  mantel  had  run  its  circuit  eight 
times  in  succession.  "I  doubt  not  that  I  have  wea 
ried  you  by  the  unreasonable  length  of  my  visit; 
but  like  a  bound  captive,  I  have  been  held  in  thrall 
with  silken  chains  for  forty-eight  hours." 

"And  have  you  really  enjoyed  the  time?"  she 
asked,  quite  artlessly. 

"Why,  my  dear  Alice,"  he  now  ventured  to  ad 
dress  her,  "I  am  in  love — enmeshed  in  the  delight 
ful  toils  of  the  most  beautiful  woman  in  the  wide, 
wide  world.  Will  you  permit  me  to  declare  my 
passion — my  love — for  my  queen,  my  beauty?  To 
tell  you  that  I  have  been  captivated  by  the  only 
girl  that  can  under  all  circumstances  make  me  hap 
py?  And  can  you,  my  sweet  Alice,  reciprocate  the 
feeling?'' 

There  was  no  response  from  the  girl,  but  her 
soul  was  thrilled  by  an  experience  new  and  exci 
ting,  and  she  buried  her  face  in  her  hands  for  the 
moment. 

Perhaps  there  is  very  It-tie  to  interest  a  third 
party  in  the  initial  chapters  of  a  love  story;  there 
are  to  be  sure  the  old  fancies  that  are  animated, 
then  its  incidents  become  melodramatic,  and  then 
we  laugh,  and  then  possibly  forget.  As  Alice 
raised  her  eyes  to  the  portrait  just  above  the 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  305 

piano,  her  face  radiant  as  it  were  with  an  indes 
cribable  beauty,  the  enamored  judge  looked  into 
the  lustrous  blue  eyes  and  felt  that  he  read  with 
in  their  azure  depths,  the  passion  of  a  beautiful 
woman's  love;  and  with  much  confusion  be  ob 
served, 

"Perhaps  Alice  I  have  originated  a  surprise  for 
you;  please  do  not  be  alarmed  if  my  feelings  have 
overmastered  my  discretion." 

The  embarrassed  girl  essayed  quite  tactfully  to 
withdraw  the  attention  of  her  suitor  from  the  sub 
ject  he  was  nervously  pressing,  and  pointing  to 
the  portrait  of  a  gentleman  wearing  the  stars  of  a 
colonel  in  the  Confederate  army,  she  asked  him  if 
he  recognized  her  father  in  the  painting. 

"Do  you  know,"  she  remarked  without  awaiting 
an  answer  "that  I  feel  inexpressibly  sad  when 
I  think  of  our  poor  boys  who  wore  the  gray  in  the 
bloody  battles  of  the  South?"  and  a  tiny  tear 
quivered  in  her  soft  eye. 

"I  doubt  not,"  replied  the  judge  in  sympathy 
with  her  feelings,  that  the  retrospection  is  ex 
tremely  painful.  "I  am  sure  that  I  have  reason  to 
deplore  a  catastrophe,  that  over  laid  our  beloved 
country  as  with  a  shroud." 

"You  were  not  a  soldier  in  the  Union  army  ?" 
she  suggested  interrogatively. 

"And  could  you  respect  me  if  I  were?"  he  asked. 

"Oh  yes,"  Alice  replied  without  hesitation,  "you 
have  been  so  true  to  the  South  in  the  character  of 
judge  I  can  and  do  honor  you,  and  I  am  quite  sure 
if  you  were  a  Yankee  soldier  you  believed  you 
were  performing  your  duty." 

"My  sweet  Alice,"  he  exclaimed  "Don't  let  us 
have  Yankee  soldiers  in  this  beautiful  Southern 
home;  you  don't  know  how  opprobriously  the  term 
Yankee  sounds  to  me.  I  was  a  Union  soldier  and 
fought  under  the  Stars  and  Stripes,  through  the 
20 


306  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

bloody  battle  of  Manassas,  and  can  my  rebel  sweet 
heart  forgive  mef  he  asked, as  he  timidly  took  her 
soft  hand  in  his  own. 

''Assuredly  sir,"  she  replied  "if  you  will  give 
me  your  word  upon  honor,  that  you  never  shot  our 
poor  boys  in  the  battle;  now  did  you?"  she  feelingly 
asked  as  she  looked  into  his  face,  aglow  with  the 
holy  passion  of  love. 

"No,"  he  replied  emphatically,  "but  if  I  had 
carried  a  musket  instead  of  a  sword  I  would  have 
done  my  duty." 

"Do  you  know  sweet  Alice  that  whilst  there 
were  frowning  clouds  upon  the  horizon, there  were 
rainbows  with  bright  hues  that  bridged  them  over; 
that  whilst  there  were  incidents  excitingly  tragi 
cal,  there  were  experiences  that  provoked  laugh 
ter  in  camps  and  prisons?  Let  me  give  you  a  single 
illustration  that  occurs  to  me  just  this  moment,  if 
you  will  pardon  me,  and  let  me  say  that  I  am 
convinced  that  it  was  patriotism  that  kept  the 
Confederate  soldiers  in  the  arm3r,  where  they  pre 
ferred  the  thick  of  the  battle,  and  sought  death 
itself  as  the  highest  reward  of  the  brave.  It  would 
illustrate  our  pride  as  a  nation  to  put  the  gallant 
soldiers  of  the  South  in  an  attitude  of  glory  equal 
to  our  own. 

I  was  assistant  provost  marshal  at  the  military 
prison  at  Point  Lookout  in  the  years  1863  and 
1864,  and  I  recall  an  amusing  character  who  was 
brought  into  the  prison  with  a  large  number  of  oth 
er  prisoners  who  had  been  captured  at  Chancellors- 
ville.  I  think  his  name  was  Patrick  Sullivan,  a 
red, haired  freckled  faced  Irishman, clad  in  butter 
nut  homespun;  and  every  available  square  inch 
of  coat,  vest, pants  and  hat  was  decorated  by  military 
buttons  of  all  kinds  and  sizes.  I  asked  the  prison 
er  why  this  superfluity  of  decorations;!  and  he  an 
swered  with  a  drawl  as  he  squinted  his  left  eye; 


THE   BROKEN    SWORD.  307 

"Wall  mister,  I  reckin  ye  haint  hearn  tell  how 
thrivin  the  cussed  Yankees  used  to  be  down  South 
twell  weun's  got  to  thinnin  em  out  sorter;  they 
come  down  thar  pine  blank  in  gangs,  like  skeeters 
in  the  Savanny  mashes,  twell  weun's  run  afoul  of 
em  like  a  passel  of  turkeys  chasing  hopper  grasses 
in  the  clover  patches;  and  bless  your  soul  honey 
the  captain  lowed  that  every  dead  Yankee  woiud 
fetch  a  gold  dollar  at  pay  day,  arter  we  had  licked 
old  Lincum;  and  I've  got  just  nineteen  hundred 
and  seventy-six  ginerals  and  kurnels  and  captains 
and  privates  in  the  rear  rank  to  my  credic  at  set- 
tlin  day.  That  thar  button  up  thar  in  the  tip  end 
of  my  hat  was  a  Major,  that  was  skeddadlin  to  the 
rare  arter  weun's  was  plumb  licked  at  Bull  Run  ; 
and  that  thar  button  on  the  tother  end  of  the  hat 
was  the  fust  giniral  I  kilt  at  Seben  Pines;  and 
bless  your  soul  honey,  killing  ginerals  and  majors 
after  that  won't  no  more  than  shooting  bull-bats 
down  in  Georgy;  and  as  to  captains  and  lef ten 
ants,  I  just  flung  them  in  with  the  foot  cavalry 
sorter  pomiscuous." 

"Sad  to  say,"  the  judge  continued,  "the  poor 
fellow  died  in  prison.  We  buried  him  with  all 
his  generals  and  foot  cavalry  where  the  Potomac 
sings  its  threnody  by  night  and  by  day." 

The  narrative  with  the  amusing  grimaces  of  the 
judge  interested  Alice,  and  she  laughed  until  tenrs 
came  into  her  eyes.  She  became  serious  again 
however,  and  asked  her  guest  if  he  really  partici 
pated  in  the  battle  of  Manassas. 

"Yes  indeed,"  h«  rejoined,  "and  my  experience 
in  that  battle  was  inexpressibly  sad.  I  cannot  think 
of  Manassas,"  he  resumed,  "that  I  do  not  recall 
an  incident  full  of  pathos  and  glory.  Without  the 
mechanism  of  a  regular  army;  with  a  currency  afl 
erratic  as  the  proclamation  money  of  the  colonists, 
without  experience  or  discipline,  they  had 


308  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

courage  of  Spartans;  and  the  proud  eminence  they 
assumed  in  every  engagement  made  them  heroes 
in  the  forlorn  struggle.  There  is  not  a  single  in 
stance  upon  record  where  the  swords  or  guns  of 
the  Southern  armies  were  tarnished  by  ignoble 
flight  or  inglorious  surrender;  and  whenever  their 
flag  was  struck,  it  was  because  the  elements  of 
resistance  were  exhausted.  Sad  indeed  that  the 
drama  should  have  begun  and  closed  with  such 
heart-rending  tragedies.  Could  I  so  order  and 
direct  the  policy  of  the  government,  I  would 
make  the  glory  of  our  American  arms  as  imper 
ishable  as  the  Republicanism  of  our  government. 
I  would  make  Gettysburg  and  Chancellorsville 
to  gleam  through  the  haze  of  centuries  like  Mara 
thon  and  Platsea  and  upon  each  return  of  the 
glorious  anniversaries,  I  would  find  a  Pericles  to 
proclaim  from  our  American  Acropolis  the  fade 
less  glory  of  the  men  who  wore  the  gray  as  well  as 
the  men  who  wore  the  blue." 

The  impassioned  eloquence  of  the  distinguished 
guest  enthused  Alice  with  a  strange  experience, 
and  in  her  discriminating  judgment  she  discovered 
a  lover  whose  exalted  spirit  of  patriotism,  whose 
fervid  oratory,  challenged  her  admiration.  She 
could  only  bow  her  thanks  to  her  honored  friend 
whose  role  upon  the  tragic  stage  must  have  been 
highly  dramatic. 

1  was  a  lieutenant  in  the  twenty-sixth  Pennsyl 
vania  cavalry,''  he  continued,  and  at  the  head  of 
a  squadron  rode  a  dashing  young  Confederate 
officer  who,  at  the  time  I  saw  him,  was  in  the 
act  of  cleaving  the  head  of  one  of  our  captains 
with  his  sabre,  when  a  shot  from  one  of  our 
men  arrested  the  sabre  in  mid  air,  and  he  fell 
mortally  wounded  from  the  saddle.  I  instantly 
dismounted  and  raised  the  young  officer  in  my  arms 
who  could  only  say,  "Take  the  ring  on  my  finger  to 


THE   BROKEN    SWORD.  309 

my  darling  Al "   and  died.     I  have  worn  the 

ring  ever  since,  vainly  prosecuting  the  search  for 
the  true  claimant.  I  presume  that  the  owner  will 
never  be  found.  You  will  observe  from  its  facets 
and  artistic  workmanship  that  the  diamond  must 
be  very  costly;  and  if  you  will  take  it  into  your 
hand  you  will  read  within  the  circlet  your  name 
and  mine,  "Alice  to  Arthur."  The  girl  taking  the 
ring  into  her  hands  uttered  a  scream  that  pierced 
the  judge's  soul,  and  she  fell  heavily  upon  the  floor 
in  a  swoon. 

"Merciful  Father  in  Heaven,"  exclaimed  the 
affrighted  man  in  a  paroxysm  of  agony.  "What 
have  I  done!  what  have  I  done!"  Clasping  the 
unconscious  girl  to  his  bosom,  he  cried  loudly  for 
help,  and  Clarissa  ran  in  great  agitation  into  the 
room  shrieking  out  in  a  delirium  of  fear. 

"Mars  jedge  has  yu  dunund  sassinated  myyung 
missis  in  cold  blood*  in  dis  heer  great  house  ?  If  yu 
has    yu'l   sho  be   swung    on   de    gallus.     Oh   my 
lands  sakes  alive  !    Jerrusulum  my  king  !"  and  the 
old  negro  ran  frantically  about  the  parlor,  hither 
and  thither,  over   turning   tables  and  chairs  and 
throwing  into  the  face  of  her  young  mistress  great 
clusters  of  flowers  and  water  and  rugs  which  had 
the  happy  effect  of  resuscitating  the  poor  girl;  and 
on  regaining  her  senses  she  looked  dazedly  up  and 
saw  Clarissa  coming  with  a  teapot  of  boiling  water, 
with   which   the   old   negro  in   her  transport  wa 
about  to  parboil  her  young  mistress.    She  motione 
Clarissa  away,  and  as   soon   as  she  could  contro 
her  voice  she  said  to  the  judge; 

"Oh,  how  I  must  have  alarmed  you  sir  !' 

"Ugh!  My  King!"  interrupted  Clarissa  in  her 
grave  earnestness  "Yu  knows  yu  skeert  us  jamby 
to  def ;  yu  fokses  aint  fittin  to  stay  in  dis  heer  par 
lor  by  yoselves,  ef  dem  is  de  shines  yu  is  agwme 
to  cut  up;  a  little  mo  und  yu  mout  been  dead  as  a 


310  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

mackrel  und  den  dat  dar  jedge  mout  be  hung  on  de 
gallus;  and  with  this  unparliamentary  speech  the 
old  negro,  decidedly  out  of  temper  with  the  situa 
tion  of  persons  and  things,  strode  out  of  the  room 
muttering  to  herself  as  she  closed  the  door,  "I  aint 
satisfied  in  my  mind  pine  plank  whedder  Miss 
Alice  had  a  sho  nuff  fit,  or  whedder  she  drapped 
down  dat  dar  way  jest  to  be  kotched  up  by  the  jedge 
fo  she  hit  de  no.  Dese  heer  white  gals  is  mons 
trous  sateful  dat  day  is." 

"You  don't  understand  our  maid,"  Alice  observ 
ed  to  her  guest  apologetically  as  Clarissa  walked  out 
of  the  room.  '"We  have  to  make  allowances  for 
her."  The  judge  could  not  speak  for  a  while,  for 
Clarissa's  oddities  had  thrown  him  into  a  fit  of 
laughter.  After  recovering  himself  he  said  argu- 
mentatively.  "I  think  I  can  see  that  the  civili 
zation  of  the  South  will  have  lost  much  of  its 
fragrance  when  the  old  negroes  are  dead.  The 
history  of  your  country  has  been  refreshed  by  the 
charm  they  have  brought  to  it;  and  I  doubt  not 
that  despite  their  strong  individuality,  their  cru 
dities,  they  will  be  sadly  missed  one  of  these  days." 

"Now  that  I  have  survived  those  ridiculous  sen 
sations  that  quite  overpowered  me,"  Alice  blush- 
ingly  remarked  "will  you  accompany  me  for  a  mo 
ment  ?"  And  the  judge  quietly  assenting  gave 
Alice  his  arm  not  knowing  whither  she  was  lead 
ing  him.  She  paused  before  an  exquisite  painting 
partially  veiled  by  drapery,  and  bade  him  look 
upon  it.  The  judge  obeying  her  command,  saw 
npon  the  wall  the  faithful  portraiture  of  the  hand 
some  young  officer  who  was  slain  under  his  own 
eye  at  Manassas;  and  from  whose  hand  he  had 
taken  the  ring  that  had  thrown  Alice  into  the 
swoon. 

"Ah!"  he  exclaimed  emotionally  "It  is  he,  it  is 


THE   BROKEN    SWORD.  311 

he,  your  lover,  Alice,  your  brave  soldier  boy  who 
died^for  his  darling,  ever  so  far  away." 

;'You  will  pardon  my  tears  will  you  not?"  she 
asked  entreatingly,  "if  I  tell  you  that  he  was  so 
true,  so  good,  so  brave,  that  I  loved  him  so 
dearly  ?'' 

•'Yes,  I  can  freely  pardon,  since  you  confide 
your  grief ,  your  love  tome.  Take  the  ring  Alice," 
he  pleaded  so  eloquently,  "Take  it  from  Arthur 
Livingstone,  who  loves  you  with  his  whole  heart; 
who  has  come  to  Ingleside,  to  your  own  sweet 
bower,  to  your  own  dear  self,  to  proffer  his  life, 
his  honor;  to  relight  the  candle  upon  the  same  al 
tar,  upon  which  your  brave  soldier  boy  first  lighted 
it,  when  he  proffered  to  you  his  life*  his  homage, 
his  all.  He  who  returns  the  ring  to  you  that  you 
gave  Arthur  Macrae,  would  take  his  place  in  your 
heart  and  guard  its  portal  with  his  life,  until  the 
very  'stars  shall  pale  their  fires  in  the  heavens 
above.  God  in  Heaven  will  ratify  the  compact, 
and  'neither  powers,  nor  principalities,  nor  things 
present,  nor  things  to  come,  nor  life,  nor  death 
shall  separate  us  from  one  another.'  " 

A  smile  of  unutterable  joy  was  the  only  answer 
she  gave  him. 

"Now  my  darling,"  the  judge  pleaded  passion 
ately,  "in  the  presence  of  the  angels  and  of  your 
own  Arthur,  let  us  plight  our  holy  troth  to  one 
another." 

The  girl  sweetly  looking  into  the  radiant  face 
lovingly  answered,  "And  Arthur  has  promised  to 
give  me  away  at  the  altar,  and  to  put  the  ring  that 
I  gave  him  with  my  love;  this  ring  upon  my  fin 
ger." 

"Thank  God,"  he  exclaimed, in  an  ecstacy  of  feel 
ing,  "the  cup  of  my  joy  overflows,"  and  pressing  her 
soft  hand  to  his  lips  he  kissed  it  over  and  over 
again,  and  looking  only  as  a  lover  can  look  into 


312  THE   BROKEN    SWORD. 

her  upturned  face,  beaming  with  happiness, lie  said, 
"After  all  to  what  can  I  compare  the  love  of  a  true, 
beautiful  woman  ?" 

"May  I  guess?"  she  asked  still  laughing. 

"Yes,  oh  yes,"  he  rejoined. 

"To  the  love  of  a  true,  manly  man." 

The  scattered  sun  rays  were  coalescing  and  form 
ing  a  nimbus  of  beauty  around  every  facade  and 
chamber, except  one  in  Ingleside.  Upon  this  thresh 
old,  shadows  were  by  turns  advancing  and  rece 
ding.  The  undiplomatic  ambassador  with  his  com 
mission  of  power  to  slay,  without  being  outlawed 
by  any  judicial  tribunal,  was  inditing  his  judg 
ment.  It  ran  in  the  name  of  Commonwealths  and 
States  Universal.  This  Plenipotentiary  had  been 
into  this  mansion  before,  but  he  came  without  ter 
rors,  without  equipages,  without  liveried  slaves. 
He  came  softly  and  sweetly.  There  were  no  harsh 
commands  that  he  uttered,  no  rattling  of  wheels 
over  cobble  stones,  no  exhibition  of  a  despotic 
will. 

"My  daughter,"  he  whispered  "you  are  wearied, 
come  with  me  I  will  give  you  rest."  Will  he  come 
with  this  fascination  again  ? 

Here  lies  an  old  man  broken  like  a  wheel  by  the 
force  of  cataracts  and  torrents,  that  have  been  in 
creasing  their  momentum  for  all  th«-se  years,  as 
they  have  heaved  and  billowed  over  his  poor 
soul. 

Pending  the  treaty  of  love  in  the  parlor,  old 
Ned  and  Clarissa  were  holding  a  whispered  con 
versation  in  the  kitchen. 

"Ned,"  Clarissa  asked  in  alarm,  "did  dat  dar 
jedge  ax  yu  ary  question  about  Miss  Alice 
when  he  cum  in  de  do  ?'' 

"No,  not  pintedly,"  Ned  answered. 

Clarissa  hung  her  head  for  a  moment,  and  with 
her  old  checked  apron  to  her  liquid  eyes,  she  con- 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  313 

tinned  sobbingly,  "Dar  is  gwine  to  cum  a  break 
ing  up  in  dis  heer  fambly  Ned,  sho  as  yu  born.  I 
seed  it  de  fust  time  dat  furrinner  sot"  his  foot  in 
dis  heer  grate  house.  Miss  Alice  aint  neber  had 
her  hart  toched  befo,  but  when  he  cum,  her  eyes 
looked  bright  lak  de  stars,  und  a  smile  smole  all  over 
her  beautiful  face,  und  she  has  been  singing  love 
himes  ever  since,  and  dat  dar  jedge  when  he  g  ts 
whay  Miss  Alice  is,  is  jes  as  happy  as  a  mole  in  a 
tater  hill." 

It  was  Ned's  turn  now  to  dash  away  a  tear  from 
his  leaky  eyes,  and  with  arms  bent  over  his  bowed 
bosom,  and  with  drooping  head  and  a  seasaw  mo 
tion  he  said,  "Clarsy,  I  been  a  studdin  erbout  dis 
heer  situashun,  und  ef  dat  dar  furrener  tices  yung 
missis  from  dis  heer  plantashun,  in  de  name  ob 
Gford  what  is  agwine  to  come  ob  ole  marser  ?" 

"Yu  better  ax  wot  is  agwine  ter  cum  ob  me  und 
yu.  Ole  marser  is  agwine  away  fust,  yu  heer  my 
racket.  I  dun  heerd  deth  er  calling  him.  Ole 
marser  walks  rite  cranked-sided  now,  wid  dat 
wheezin  in  his  chiss,und  twixt  dese  franksized  nig 
gers,  und  dis  outlandish  konstrucshun,  und  ole 
missis  dun  und  gon,  ole  marser  is  er  pinin  lak  a 
dedded  gum  in  de  low  ground.  ' 

"Eggzackly  so,  eggzackly  so,"  ejaculated  Ned, 
"Wot  is  agwine  ter  cum  of  me  und  yu." 

"Dares  where  yu  interests  me  Ned;  what  is 
agwine  ter  cum  of  me  und  yu  sho  nuff  ?  Deres  ole 
Joshaway  nigh  erbout  one  hundred  years  ole,  ded 
und  gon  now,  jes  lived  on  de  rode  trapezing  bac- 
cards  und  furrards  to  de  ole  kommissary,  wid  his 
happysack  und  jimmyjon  as  emty  as  my  tub  dere 
wid  nary  botum,  twell  ole  mars  fotched  him  back 
home  ;  und  pend  pon  it,  Ned,  ef  Miss  Alice  don't 
make  some  perwishun  fur  me  und  yu,  we's  agwine 
to  suck  sorrow  as  sho  as  yer  born." 

"Dat's  de  gospil  troof,"  replied  Ned. 


314  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

"Uncle  ISTed,"  came  the  voice  of  Alice  from  the 
parlor,  "Will  you  please  bring  Judge  Livingstone's 
hat  to  fcimt*' 

"Sartainly,  yung  missis,"  quickly  the  negro  re 
plied,  and  he  ran  as  fast  as  his  stiff  joints  would 
permit,  and  bowing  very  humbly,  placed  the  hat  in 
the  judge's  hand. 

"And  will  you  not  give  me  a  kiss  now  in  the 
presence  of  your  old  servant?"  asked  the  judge. 
And  the  beautiful  girl,  half  yielding,  allowed  her 
lover  to  print  one  or  more  upon  her  rosy  lips. 

"Adieu  my  love,  until  I  come  again  in  October 
to  claim  my  own." 

Alice  returned  to  the  parlor  and  threw  her  soul 
into  the  old,  old  song,  the  judge's  favorite,  "Then 
you'll  remember  me." 

Ned  shuffled  back  to  Clarissa  with  his  old  bandana 
to  his  eyes  with  the  observation  "Taint  wuff  while 
to  pester  yosef  er  sobbing  und  er  sighing  no  mo  Clar- 
sy,  I  dun  und  seed  de  margige  sealed  und  livered. 
I  heerd  the  nupshall  wows  sploding  same  as  er  pas- 
sel  of  poppercrackers." 

"Oh  my  heavens,"  screamed  Clarissa,  as  she 
jerked  her  old  apron  to  her  eyes. 

The  three  blood  red  stars  were  now  blotted  out 
of  the  reconstruction  calendar;  like  the  painted 
dolphins  in  the  circus  at'  Antioch,  they  had  been 
taken  down  one  by  one.  The  old  Colonel  had  been 
running  flank  and  flank  with  the  athletes  of  recon 
struction,  but  within  the  last  stadium  he  had,  lost 
and  the  old  man,  like  the  fire  scathed  oak,  was 
yielding  his  life  after  all;  dying  like  a  gladiator 
with  his  wounds  upon  his  breast;  dying,  yet  hold 
ing  fast  to  the  traditions  of  his  fathers,  with  no 
blemish  upon  their  name  or  his;  with  no  bar  sinis 
ter  upon  the  family  shield;  with  no  stain  upon  his 
sword.  Dying  a  Seymour,  a  soldier,  a  southron 
of  the  bluest  blood  ;  dying  with  the  prophecy  up- 


THE   BROKEN    SWORD.  315 

on  his  lips,  "The  old  South,  by  the  help  of  God, 
shall  be  crowned  with  all  the  blessings  of  civili/a- 
tion,  with  the  last  and  highest  attainments  in  the 
manhood  and  womanhood  of  her  people/'  Dying 
with  another  prophecy  upon  his  lips,  scarcely 
audible,  "My  daughter, you  will  live  to  see  the  old 
South,  now  reeling  and  tottering  like  a  bewildered 
traveller,  come  to  her  own  again;  like  a  magnani 
mous  queen,  reigning  in  love  and  tranquility;  her 
soil  yielding  its  harvest  in  bounty,  and  her  people 
blessed  in  basket  and  store." 


316  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 


CHAPTER   XXV. 


THE    PARTING    OF    THE    WAYS. 

Afflictive  dispensations  had  so  often  heaped  up 
against  the  horizon  of  Alice's  affections, frowning, 
angry  clouds;  the  memory  of  bier  and  pall  had  so 
cruelly  overlaid  her  young  life  with  its  gloom  that 
but  for  the  solace  of  religion,  there  would  be  no 
refuge  from  the  bitterness  of  her  grief;  from  the 
shadows  of  the  grave.  But  in  her  mother's  cham 
ber,  with  her  mother's  precious  Bible  in  her  hands, 
she  felt  that  there  was  a  fountain  opened  up  be 
fore  her,  yes  in  the  very  house  of  David.  "Bles 
sed  Book  !  What  is  life  without  thee?"  she  ex 
claimed.  "Is  it  not  a  faithful  transcript  of  the  last 
will  of  our  Redeemer?  Is  it  not  the  key  that  un 
locks  the  door  of  Heaven?  Yea  the  guide  that  elab 
orates  its  beauties  ?  'Eye  hath  not  seen;  ear  hath 
not  heard;  neither  hath  it  entered  into  the  heart  of 
man  to  conceive  of  those  things  which  He  hath 
prepared  for  them  that  love  Him.'  "  She  felt  that 
in  the  world's  tragedy  of  sin  it  was  indeed  a  savor 
of  life  unto  life;  that  it  erects  in  the  human  soul, 
where  there  is  sin, sorrow  and  despair,  a  sanitarium; 
rendering  good  for  evil,  giving  back  pardon  for 
injury;  prefering  pity  to  vengeance;  kneeling  al 
ways  upon  the  heights  of  virtue  to  uplift  the 
broken-hearted.  Whether  its  blessed  truths  be 
spoken  in  prophecy  or  narrative;  whether  whisper 
ed  from  the  sepulchre  or  the  cript;  whether  thun 
dered  from  Sinai  or  Mars  Hill;  they  tenderly  lead 
poor,  fallen  human  nature  into  the  portals  of  im 
mortality,  into  the  very  gate  of  Heaven.  "Has 
not  religion,''  she  asked,  "given  to  humanity  an  up- 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  317 

lifted  brow  ?   Has   it  not   admonished  man  to  put 
away  from  Mm  every  mercenary  calculation  and 
to  realize  that  the  scourges  of  sin  are  rotting  whip 
cords  ?     Ah  yes,  wherever  there  is  a  tear,  there  is 
love,  wherever  anguish  there  is  consolation,  when 
ever  the  night  is  dark  and  starless   and  there  are 
deep  shadows,   an  angel  stands  with  bowed  head 
and  welcoming  arms.     What  a  balm  for  the  scari 
fied,  bleeding  heart !  A  precious  pearl  of  great  price 
in  a  casket  of  exceeding  beauty;  a  sword  of  ethe 
real  temper   that  divides  unto  the   sundering   of 
bone   and   marrow;  but  there  are  diamonds   upon 
the  hilt  and  golden   tracery   upon   the  scabbard. 
Ah,  the  resurrection,  who  gives  this  promise,  this 
faith,  this  hope  2     In  all  the  dead  aeons  of  dead 
centuries,  science,  nature,  man,  have  asked  in  vain 
'If  a  man  die  shall  he  live  again  V — But  just  as  in 
scaling  a  beautiful  mountain,  it  needs  no  chemist 
ry  to  analyze  the  air,  to  tell  us  that  it  is  free  from 
miasma,   as  every  breath  which  paints  a  ruddier 
glow  upon  the  cheek  and  sends  a  tonic  tide  through 
the  body,  will  tell  of  its  invigorating  touch;  so  it 
needs   no   analysis,    no    reasoning,  to   persuade  a 
spiritual  mind  that  the  air  of  Heaven,  the  breath 
of  God     is   in  this   book;  and   just   as  on  Tabor's 
brow,  when  from  Christ   His  own  glory  pierced  its 
callous,  unfeeling  sides,  it   needed  no   refracting 
prism  to  tell  us  that  it  was  the  sunburst  of  more  than 
earthly  radiance   the   pilgrims  were  gazing  upon. 
So  when  a  Bible  chapter  is  transfigured,  when  the 
Holy  Spirit  transmutes  into  it  his  grace  and  glory, 
it  will   require   neither   a   Paley   or  Shenstone  to 
prove  that  the  power  and  wisdom  of  God  are  there; 
but  radiant  with  emitted  splendor,  in  God's  own 
light    we  will  see  it  to  be  God's  own  Book,  and 
know  it   to  be   His   blessed   revelation.      'I  know 
that  my  Redeemer  liveth  and  that  in  my  flesh  I 
shall  see  God.'      The  light  of  faith  in  the  afflicted 


318  .THE   BROKEN    SWORD. 

man  of  God  was  burning  feebly,  but  he  begins  to 
feel  now  the  strength,  the  virtue,  which  lies  in  in- 
nocency,  as  if  God  were  beginning  to  reveal  Him 
self  within  him.  He  heeds  no  longer  the  hyper- 
Calvinist  when  he  t^lls  him,  'Thou  has  taken  a 
pledge  from  thy  brother  for  naught,  and  stripped 
the  naked  of  their  clothing;  thou  has  not  given 
water  to  the  weary,  and  thou  hast  withholden 
bread  from  the  hungry.'  He  raises  his  finger  as 
if  he  would  command  attention  and  exclaims,  not 
in  irony,  but  in  tranquil  self-possession,  'God  for 
bid  that  I  should  justify  you;  till  I  die,  I  will  not 
remove  my  integrity  from  me.  My  righteousness 
I  will  not  let  go.  My  heart  shall  not  reproach  me 
so  long  as  I  live.' 

"Pictorial  scriptures,  truly,  comprehending  all 
manners,  all  conditions,  all  countries.  Egypt  with 
the  Nile  and  the  Pyramids,  the  nomad  Arabs,  the 
bewildered  caravans,  the  heat  of  the  tropics,  the 
ice  of  the  north,  are  there;  all  save  the  frozen 
heart  of  Jewish  traditions  and  ceremonials.  How 
divinely  transfigured  every  page  of  the  precious 
Book,  wherein  is  life  eternal!" 

In  the  great  voiceless  halls  and  chambers  there 
was  no  sound  but  her  poor,  lumultous  heart  beat 
ing  wildly  against  a  bosom  sore  with  weeping.  Alas, 
for  ties  that  are  so  fragile,  for  pleasures  that  are 
so  transitory!  Old  Clarissa  would  steal  tip-toe  to 
her  chamber,  but  she  dared  not  enter,  and  would 
return  as  softly  to  the  kitchen. 

"Po  Miss  Alice,  slie  do  suffer  mazin.  Pears  lak 
ebery  now  und  den  when  her  eyes  gits  bright  und 
her  face  is  sunny  und  sweet,  und  her  lafter  is  lak 
de  ripplin  ob  de  little  brook  in  de  medfler,  dat  de 
good  Lord  draps  anudder  drug  in  de  cup  und  maks 
her  drink  ebery  drap.  Dere  aint  a  gwine  to  be  no 
mo  sorrer  for  Miss  Alice  now;  yung  Mars  Harry  is 
gon,  und  missis  is  gon,  und  ole  marser  is  gon,  und 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  319 

bimeby   her  eyes   is   agwine  to    git  bright   agin 
und  her  party  solemcholly  face  is  er  gwine  to  be 
full   of  smiles,   und   de  little  birds  is  ergwine   to 
hang  dere  heads  und  drap  to  sleep  when  she  sin^s 
dem  lubly  ole  fashined  himes  agin." 

The    poor   girl   finally   fell   asleep.     It    was  the 
only  anodyne   that  nature  had   in*  her  laboratory 
for  a  broken  heart;  and  she  slept  as  tranquilly  as 
a  little   child.     She   awoke  refreshed   by  dreams, 
peopled  by  friends  of  her  early  childhood,  many 
of  whoin  were  living  and  happy.     She  went  into 
the  kitchen, to  give  directions  to  Clarissa,  whom  she 
found   at    her    accustomed    labor.      Crushed    and 
spiritless  as  she  was,  there  was  comfort  for  her  in 
the  broken,incoherent  utterances  of  the  old  negro. 
''Don't  cry  no  mo,'' said  Clarissa  quite  sympa 
thetically.   "I  used  to  heer  ole  missis  say  when  she 
was  ailin  monstrous   bad,  dat  ebery  cloud   had  a 
silver  linin,  und  I  heliebs  it  pine  plank.     I  beliefs 
dat  when  de  good  Lord  sends  trouble  on  dis  h«-re 
Ian  He's  ergwine  ter  sen  grace  too.     Dat's  my  be 
lief,  yung  misses,  und  I'm  ergwine  to  lib  by  it  und 
I'm  ergwine  to  die  by  it.  When  I  looked  down  into 
ole  marser's  grave  and  seed   all  dera  lilies  ob  de 
walley   kivered   up  in  de    dirt,    I  node  de   good 
Lord  was  not  ergwine  to  mommuck   up  ole  mar 
ser's  soul  fur  nuthin.   I  node   dere   wuz  ergwine  to 
be  a  transplantin  in  His  hebenly  garden  of  all  de 
beautifullest  flowers  dat  withers  and   parish*-*  here 
in  dese  low  grouns  ob  sorror,  und  I  sez  to  mysef, 
dat  I  specks   ole  missis  is  er  runnin   ter  meet  ole 
marser  dis  bery  minit,    wid  boil'  bans  chock   full 
ob  white  roses  und  jonquils   und   lilies  ob  de  wal 
ley.     Duz  yer  kno  what  I  beliebs.  Miss  Alice?"  she 
continued,  as  she  wiped  her  eyes  in  her  old  check 
ed  apron.     "When  I  sees  a  little  \\hitcilo\vn-er 
droopin  und  er  dying  in  ole  missis'  garden,  I  nose 
dat  she  hez  cum  down  frii  de  purly  gates  to  pull  it 


320  THE    BKOKEN    SWORD. 

und  tak  it  back  in  her  busum  to  yung  Mars  Harry; 
und  when  I  sees  a  little  teensy  baby  a  droopin  nnd 
er  dyin  jest  lak  dat  little  flower,  I  nose  de  good 
Lawd  is  er  takin  it  home  in  His  busum  too.  Wun 
ob  dese  days  yu  und  me  is  agwine  ter  see  fur  our- 
sefs.  Bress  de  Lawd  !" 

The  days  were  passing  now  eo  languidly,  and 
wretchedness  was  still  brooding  in  the  heart  of 
Alice.  To  one  event,  however,  she  looked  forward 
with  intense  yearnings.  There  was  somewhere  in 
the  wide,  wide  world  a  great  sympathetic  heart 
perpetually  telegraphing  its  love,  and  she  was 
feeling  the  electric  current  in  its  pulsations  every 
moment  in  the  day.  He  had  promised  to  come 
again  in  the  mellow,  fragrant  month  of  October, 
before  the  flowers  fade  and  die;  when  the  artist  of 
nature  is  painting  the  foliage  upon  the  trees  green, 
purple  and  golden,  and  with  a  richer  iris  the  twi 
light  sky,  and  dappling  the  fleecy  clouds.  Yes, 
he  is  coming,  not  as  the  judge  of  the  assizes,  but 
as  a  prisoner  of  hope.  Her  affections  hitherto 
were  divided — now  he  yearns  for  the  whole  heart. 
Coming  to  endow  her  with  a  treasure  selfishly  cov 
eted  above  rubies  and  diamonds,  above  principali 
ties  and  thrones;  coming  to  plight  his  troth  at 
God's  altar,  that  in  sickness  and  in  health  they 
would  cling  to  one  another  till  death  doth  part 
them. 

How  would  Alice  appear  in  her  funereal  robes 
before  him,  before  the  altar?  Perhaps  Clarissa 
can  reassure  her  in  this  dilemma. 

"Miss  Alice,"  she  exclaimed  as  she  clapped  her 
hands  approvingly,  "If  yer  is  as  butiful  when  the 
jedge  cums  as  yer  is  now, dat  er  pc  man  is  ergwine 
stracted  wid  hissef .  I  dare  fore  my  blessed  Mars- 
terup  yander  if  I  had  er  node  how  butiful  yer  is 
agwine  ter  look  in  dat  black  mourning,  I  wuld  er 
swaded  yer  to  dun  und  dun  it  fore  ole  marsa  died." 


THE    BROKEN    SWORD.  321 

And  what  is  going  to  become  of  Clarissa  and  Ned? 
The  mildew  of  age  is  upon  them  both.  For  years 
past  their  old  heads  have  been  whitening  with  the 
hoar  frost.  "Now  ole  marsa  is  dun  und  gon,  de 
fambly  is  ergwine  to  break  up  und  de  grate  house 
is  agwine  to  be  the  home  of  de  owls,  und  de  s wallers 
und  de  bull-bats.  So  thought  Clarissa  as  in  the  quiet 
gloaming  she  stood  in  the  verandah,  and  listened 
to  the  melancholy  winds  and  the  more  melancholy 
bleating  of  the  cattle.  Ned  had  been  doing  little 
chores  about  the  house  all  the  day ,  and  after  he 
had  eaten  his  supper,  he  and  Clarissa  had  by  per 
mission  assembled  in  the  dining-room  where  they 
found  their  young  mistress  engaged  in  some  light 
needle  work.  She  of  course  welcomed  the  negroes 
heartily.  They  were  her  friends  and  had  been 
through  many  sore  trials. 

Clarissa  was  the  ftrst  to  break  the  silence,  as  she 
enquired  of  her  young  mistress  the  day  of  the 
month. 

"It  is  the  27th  day  of  September  replied  Alice." 
"Ugh  !    Ugh  !  I  tole  yer  so  Ned.     Aint  nex  mont 
October *"  she  asked  again. 

"Yes,  why  do  you  ask*"  replied  Alice. 
"Kase  Ned  sed   the  jedge   warnt  agwine  to  cum 
no  mo  twell  juvember.    Ned  is  nustrated  monstrus, 
Miss  Alice. '   So  skeered  de  jedge  is  ergwine  to  tsik 
yer  away  frum  me  und  him." 

"And  if  he  does,  I  am  sure  you  will  both  be  very 
glad,"  Alice  replied. 

"Dat  mont  be  so,  yung  mistress  ef  me  und  Clar- 
sy  wus  peerter  und  cud  fend  fur  deyselves.  But 
bofe  uv  us  is  mity  cfanksided  now  cr  days,  und  de 
Lord  in  Heaben  only  nose  whar  we' He  agwine  to 
"•it  ary  inoufTnl  ob  wittles  when  yu  is  dun  und  gon 
to  de  tother  eend  ov  de  yearth.  Me  und  Clarsy 
slaved  fur  ole  marsa  fore  de  bellyun  fell,  und  we 
21 


322  THE   BROKEN    SWOKD. 

aint  got  no  ole  marsa  to  look  bak  to  now,  und  we 
puts  our  peridence  in  yu  yung  mistress." 

"If  I  go  away,  Uncle  Ned,"  replied  Alice,  "you 
and  Clarissa  shall  never  suffer  as  long  as  I  live." 

"Ugh  !  Ugh  !  now  yer  got  de  wurd,"  exclaimed 
Clarissa  in  tears. 

"I  haint  er  mistrusting  yu  Miss  Alice,"  Ned  an 
swered,  quite  dejectedly,  as  he  raised  his  old  coat 
sleeve  to  his  face,  "but  when  yer  is  dun  und  gon 
clean  away  how  is  yer  eber  agwine  to  git  to  us,  ef 
me  er  Clarissy  mout  need  ye  ?  Dar  is  de  pint  right 
dar,  misses.  Ef  I  hes  er  bad  miserry  in  my  head, 
und  calls  fur  Miss  Alice  she  cums  lak  er  butterfly 
und  lays  her  soft  hands  on  my  po  head  und  de 
missery  stops  rite  short;  und  ef  I  hankers  arter  er 
chiken  it  is  de  same  fing.  Ef  yer  duz  go  erway, 
misses,  old  Ned  will  follow  yer  with  his  shaky 
jints  twill  yer  gits  clean,  clar  outen  site,  und  pray 
ebery  day  de  Lord  sens,  dat  yer  mout  be  ez  happy 
as  de  angels." 

It  was  Alice's  turn  as  a  matter  of  conceit  to  ask 
the  old  negro  what  he  thought  of  Judge  Living 
stone? 

"Dat  is  a  pinted  questun,"  Ned  answered  hesi 
tatingly. 

"You  mout  ax  me  ef  he  wus  er  suple  man 
und  dat  wudn't  be  a  pinted  questun,  but  yung 
missis  I'm  bleeged  to  mistrust  dese  furreners  dat 
cums  down  here  und  spreads  deyselves  all 
ober  de  Ian,  und  fetches  freedum  und  de  horg 
colery,  und  plays  ruination  wid  our  white  fokses, 
und  den  runs  clean  clar  away  wid  our  white  gals, 
upsetting  de  whole  creashun  wid  dey  flamborgasted 
fixments.  You  mout  be  happy  way  off  yander  to  de 
tuther  eend  ob  de  yearth,  den  agin  you  mouten. 
Yer  can't  tell  misses  how  fur  de  bull-frog  is  er- 
gwine  ter  jump  by  lookin  at  his  mouf." 

To  the  foregoing  argument  Clarissa  was  assen- 


THE  BROKEN  SWORD.  323 

ting  by  repeated  nods  of  the  head,  ejaculating  oc 
casionally  "Ugh  !    Ugh  !    dats  de  gospel  trufe." 

"But  Uncle  Ned,"  enquired  Alice,  "would  you 
have  me  as  your  friend,  a  poor  lonely  girl  to  re 
main  at  Ingleside  without  protection  'i  Why  don't 
you  know  I  would  be  miserable  ?" 

"Yer  mout  be  miserable!  dan  yer  is,  misses. 
Keep  er  times  our  white  gals  finks  dey  is  er  up- 
sotting  de  yearth  by  gittin  jiued  to  de  furreners 
when  dey  is  er  flinging  de  fat  in  de  fire.  Look  at 
dat  white  gal  ober  de  medder.  She  run  away  wid 
wun  ob  dese  carpetsackers,  und  she  wus  dat  proud 
dat  she  wild  hold  her  nose  ef  de  po  white  trash 
breshed  up  agin  her  cote  skeerts.  Und  where  is 
she  now  ?" 

"Ugh!  Ugh!"  ejaculated  Clarissa.  "Wid  de 
furrener  in  de  penitenshur,  und  she  ergwine  to  de 
ole  kommissary  fur  her  rashuns.  Don't  yer  see?" 
exclaimed  Clarissa. 

"Now  misses  I  aint  er  sensing  yer  wid  nun  ob 
dis  bad  luck,  und  I  aint  er  putting  de  jedge  On  er 
ekality  wid  de  furrener  in  de  penitenshur,  but  yer 
don't  know  misses  what  is  ergwine  to  happen  when 
de  rope  is  er  roun  yer  neck,  und  de  furrener  has 
got  hold  ob  de  tuther  eend." 

"Dat  yer  don't,"  exclaimed  Clarissa,  rocking  to 
and  fro. 

"Und  yer  don't  know  missis  whar  me  und  Claris 
sa  is  ergwine  when   dat    ar  jedge    gits    to  be  de 
boss  ob  dis  heer  plantashun." 

"Oh  my  Lord,"  shouted  Clarissa  as  she  burst 
into  tears.  "Dats  maks  me  SHS  wat  1  dos,  yung 
missis,  dat  yu  axes  me  a  pinted  questun.  l>ats  de 
truf.  It  sho  is." 

Old  Ned  groaned  as  the  gravity  of  the  argument 
seemed  to  affect  him  and  brushed  a  tear  from  his 
eye  with  the  sleeve  of  his  coat.  Tin-  matter  was 
of  momentous  consequence  to  these  old  land- 


324  THE    BROKEN    SWORD. 

marks  of  a  decayed  civilization,  and  they  felt  it 
acutely.  Old  Master  as  long  as  he  lived  had  held 
out  the  lighted  candle  to  light  up  the  dreary  , tor 
tuous  paths  into  which  reconstruction  was  driving 
the  old  negroes;  hut  the  liame  had  died  down  into 
cold  ashes,  and  the  hand  that  held  it  aloft  was 
nerveless  and  dead.  There  came  as  it  were  to  their 
old  hearts  a  sad,  sad  refrain — "Breaking  up!  break 
ing  up!"  It  came  from  the  winds  that  moaned  in 
and  out  of  broken  window  shutters.  It  came  from 
the  feathered  songsters,  Prima  Donnas  of  the 
air,  who  were  sending  forth  their  advance  agents 
to  secure  homes  in  Southern  climes.  "Breaking 
up!  breaking  up  !''  Between  such  as  these  and 
their  former  masters  were  there  not  higher  and 
holier  feelings  and  relations  than  those  of  master 
and  servant  ?  Without  them  the  South  would  have 
been  the  mere  appurtenance  of  the  commercial 
North,  dragging  after  it  the  weary  chain  of  colo 
nial  dependence.  What  a  wilderness  of  wealth 
they  brought  to  our  firesides,  what  a  teeming  ag 
gregation  of  populous  and  powerful  states  !  Let 
us  at  least  give  these  old  slaves  one  look  of  kind 
ness  in  the  desolate  twilight  of  their  lingering 
clays. 

The  old  negroes  bade  their  young  mistress  a 
hearty  good  night.  "May  de  angels  shelter  yer  dis 
nite  und  all  tuther  nites  wid  dere  whings,  missis,'' 
exclaimed  Ned  as  he  followed  Clarissa  out  of  the 
door.  It  was  the  saddest  of  all  anticipations. 
They  loved  Alice  as  if  she  were  the  apple  of  the 
eye — the  heart's  core.  Their  sufferings  and  priva 
tions,  their  joys  and  happiness  in  common,  had 
touched  as  it  were  the  two  extremes  of  the  varied 
horizon  of  life.  And  now  they  were  advancing  to 
ward  the  parting:  of  the  ways.  Ned  and  Clarissa, 
with  unsteady,  faltering  footsteps  toward  the  sun 
set,  the  gloaming,  the  end  of  life;  the  young  mis- 


THE    BROKKN    sXVnlMi.  :{'J.*i 

tress  toward    the    sunrise,  never  so  resplendent  as 
now. 


Judge  Livingstone,  with  his  clerical  friend  from 
the  North,  arrived  at  the  appointed  time  at  Ingle- 
side;  he  a  bachelor  of  thirty-five,  to  wed  this  beau 
tiful  heiress,  the  exquisite  flower  that  had  budded 
and  bloomed  like  a  rose  for  twenty-six  seasons. 
Arrived  to  lacerate  the  old  slavish  hearts,that  clung 
so  helplessly  to  the  young  mistress,  like  morning 
glories  around  the  fair  flower.  Arrived  to  snatch 
from  Ingleside  so  rudely  its  life,  its  hope,  its 
promise — the  all  in  all  to  poor  Clarissa  and  old 
Ned.  "Eben  ole  Jube  knows  dat  sumfing  solem- 
kolly  is  ergwine  to  happin,"  observed  Clarissa  to 
her  young  mistress,  as  she  assisted  the  bride  in 
her  adornments  for  the  nuptial  hour.  "Jess  look 
at  dat  ole  fafeful  dorg  a  lyin  dare  jess  a  strugglin 
wid  his  moshuns,  lak  he  was  a  humans  sho  nnlV." 

The  minister  stood  at  the  little  altar  in  the  par 
lor.  The  ring  that  Alice  had  given  to  "Arthur" 
was  slipped  upon  her  finger,  and  in  the  presence 
of  the  angels.  Judge  Livingstone  and  Alice  were 
made  man  and  wife.  As  Ned  and  Clarissa  passed 
out  of  the  little  verandah,  Ned  observed  with 
streaming  eyes,  "Now  Clarsy,dere  is  no  mo  music 
fur  us  but  de  crickets  upon  de  hath.  Miss  A  lice 
has  dun  und  sung  her  las  hime  und  we  kaint  f oi 
ler  Miss  Alice  whar  she  is  ergwine  no  mo.  Ef  we 
uns  is  tuk  sick  we  kaint  holler  fur  Miss  Alice  n<> 
mo.  I  feels  lak  I  haint  got  no  frend  now.  Miss 
Alice  dun  jiiied  hersef  to  dat  furriner." 

"Dat  is  Gords  tmf  Ned,"  exclaimed  Clarissa  MS 
she  drew  her  old  checked  apron  across  her  eyes, 
"Hit  pears  lak  dere  is  nuffin  in  dis  wurrel  epsej.s 
tribulashun  of  sperits.  But  bress  her  dear  heart.  ' 
the  old  negro  continued,  "I  hope  she  may  be  jeses 


320  THE  BROKEN  SWORD. 

happy  es  de  larks  down  in  de  medder,  und  dat 
when  she  arrivs  way  ober  yander  whar  she  is  er 
gwine  she  will  send  her  raembrunces  to  me  und  yu 
fortwid." 

It  was  necessary  that  Ingleside  should  be  placed 
in  first  class  order.  Above  all  things  else  it  was 
necessary  that  ample  provision  should  be  made  for 
Clarissa  and  Nerl.  These  arrangements  in  minutest 
detail  were  satisfactorily  made,  as  the  Judge  ob 
served  to  his  bride  one  morning  after  the  wedding. 
"Do  you  not  grieve  to  part  from  your  old  friends, 
my  dear?" 

Tears  came  into  the  sweet  girl's  eyes  as  she  re 
plied  so  tenderly,  "Yes,  yes,  they  cling  so  help 
lessly  to  me,  but  dear  Arthur,  you  will  not  forget 
them,  will  you  ?" 

[THE  END.] 


ERRATA . 

In  the  15th  line,  page  78,  for  "permit"  read 
"pretermit." 

In  line  25,  page  99,  the  word  "first"  should  read 
"fifth." 

In  line  2,  page  139,  for  "preservingly"  read 
"perseveringly." 


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